Calm of the Storm
by Johnclaw Dragonhelm
Summary: A collection of extras for the AU canonicity I've designed so far, featuring Manuela, Sherry, Rachael, and Leon. (M content in CH7)
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: These extras may contain both plot relevant and plot irrelevant segments to the other stories that I will be doing. If anything important is done in any of these chapter, they will be briefly summarized prior to any chapters that rely on them.

Extra 1

"Captain, she's here."

Chris Redfield turned away from the map on the table to look at his guest. He tensed for a moment reflexively, though he hid it better than Jill did. He couldn't spite her the gasp though, given her history with the B.O.W. The aforementioned creature stood by the doorway, lingering as if unsure of their permission to walk forward. Manuela and Sherry were just behind her, dressed in their military fatigues. He had heard of their...unorthodox division. He hadn't met any of them personally, but it seemed it was time for that to be remedied. All the soldiers present watched the newest arrival nervously, splitting their focus between their tasks and their security.

Chris straightened authoritatively to address the newcomers. "Hello. I'm Chris Redfield, and this is my partner Jill Valentine. You three must be Rachael Foley, Sherry Birkin, and Manuela Hidalgo correct?"

"That's right. Leon mentioned you to me a couple of times," Manuela returned as she stepped through the door, gently guiding Rachael beside her. Chris nodded, remembering his one contact with the man. It was him that had alerted Chris to Claire's location when she had pursued Alexia. It was the same virus that had been inside that maniac that now coursed through every vein of the Hispanic woman in front of him. From what he'd heard and read, she had significant control over it, and her powers were still growing. He'd seen Alexia's "control" though, and how that ended. No matter how well intentioned, none of the viruses could be called anything more than destructive. Still, while she had retention of her faculties, he had no intention of fighting her.

"I remember Agent Kennedy. His help was appreciated in locating my sister," Chris thanked honestly. Claire seemed to think him trustworthy, so if he trusted these women, he would give them a chance.

"So you're Claire's brother? It's nice to finally meet you!" Sherry exclaimed excitedly, offering her hand to him. Chris accepted it automatically, but he could feel the unnaturally firm grip beneath the otherwise human flesh. He hadn't personally fought the G-Virus himself, but he'd heard Claire describe what it could do, and how hard it had been to put down Sherry's father. Like Manuela, he'd heard that her powers had been growing, and that her regenerative capacities were powerful, though not quite as volatile as her father's. Still, he'd read the notes about how they were trying to avoid causing her grievous injury, just in case that triggered a more drastic mutation.

"Claire talked about you a lot. Seems she really took a shining to you," Chris commented. It was true. The two had kept in fairly consistent contact over the years, and from what he could tell, Claire had become rather protective of Sherry. She had nearly shipped back from her field work when she heard that Sherry was going to train to be an agent, but once she learned Leon would be supervising her, she calmed down. It took him a moment to realize the dead space in the air, and he turned to see Jill gazing stonily at Rachael, who returned it with equal silence and intensity.

"Hello again Rachael," Jill finally spoke, breaking the silence. Chris tensed, ready to grab his pistol if need be. He hoped it wouldn't come to that.

"Hello...Jill," Rachael returned awkwardly, and Chris cringed slightly at the voice. The other two sounded perfectly human, but he supposed it wasn't a surprise that the only one who hadn't bonded with the virus sounded inhuman. Rachael's voice came out in an almost gurgling fashion, words fading into a slithering sound towards the end as her mouth failed to articulate. With each little movement, he could see her flesh ripple from its lack of solid bones, the cartilaginous sections grating passed each other easily. Unlike the others, she hung back, eager to avoid contact. She seemed to sense the uneasiness in both him and Jill quite easily. "I am sorry...about last time…"

Jill nodded slowly, idly touching her neck. Chris had seen her after the Zenobia Incident, covered in lamprey like bite marks. When they finally left the ship, she'd been woozy from blood loss. A number of those bites had been due to Rachael's constant attacks. Rachael seemed to notice what they were thinking, shifting nervously under their gazes. Chris frowned, but Jill's expression lightened as she saw the woman's discomfort. "It's alright. You weren't yourself at the time. I'm sorry I couldn't save you."

Rachael nodded slowly, and the tense air seemed to clear. "Why don't you all take a seat. We have a lot to discuss."

The three took Chris' offer, taking their seats around the table. Chris himself didn't sit, but Jill sat to his side, trying to be as encouraging as she could. Summoning his presence, Chris fixed his gaze on Manuela, as she seemed to be the leader of the unusual trio. "So, do you know why you're here?"

"The US agreed to allow the BSAA to examine Rachael in hopes of finding a t-abyss antigen by cross-comparing with Jill's blood. I was sent here to be her caretaker, but I'm not sure why they requested Sherry's presence." Sherry perked up upon hearing herself mentioned, and she looked to Chris in expectation of his answer.

"I asked that she be brought here. Since I would be meeting two of you anyways, I figured it wouldn't be too much more to ask that Sherry be brought along as well. I wanted to meet the three of you."

"I'm sorry Leon isn't here right now, but he had some business to attend to," Manuela apologized.

"That's alright. While Leon's presence would have been nice, I mainly wanted to meet you three. Seeing as you three each survived the world's most deadly biological weapons," Chris pointed out, a hint of anger in his voice. Manuela noticed that his fists were gripped a bit tighter, but he was still exercising remarkable restraint. Jill seemed to notice as well, taking over.

"The point is that we wanted to learn more about you three. You are quite unique after all. We read some of the reports, but we wanted to know a few things. If I remember correctly, you met Parker, did you not?" Jill asked, turning to Rachael.

"That's right...he was one of the ones to rescue me. Him, Raymond, and CIPHER. He seemed like a nice man, despite what happened."

"He's pretty easy going. I wouldn't be surprised if he makes jokes about it next time you see him," Jill assured. Parker hadn't suffered as much damage from Rachael's attacks, as she seemed to focus on Jill. That and he had been carrying the shotgun. Jill wondered how much of the incident Rachael remembered, and thought about how best to phrase it. "I do have to ask...how much do you remember from the ship?"

"Not a lot. I remember everything up to my death, but after that, it's a blur. I do remember some things. You and Parker occasionally...I'm still sorry. I didn't hurt you too bad, did I?"

"Nothing that a little bit of time in the infirmary couldn't heal. I did shoot you a few times, so we'll just call it even," Jill joked, clearing the air. Rachael laughed slightly, the sound best being described as a wet cough, but it got the point across.

"Captain Redfield," Manuela gently interrupted. Chris quirked an eyebrow at the formal title, but turned his gaze to the woman. "You were the one to kill Alexia, right?"

Chris nodded. "Yes I was. It was a tough fight, but I had some serious firepower on my side."

"Leon told me a bit about what she was like, but it was only what he heard. You were actually there."

"Her mutation borrowed heavily from the ants it was created from. At first, she was mostly human, but the virus mutated once she took enough damage, turning her into a hive monster. Eventually, she split into an aerial form before I killed her with the Linear Launcher. It turned out that she hadn't bonded as perfectly with the virus as she thought she had, seeing as it still mutated." Manuela nodded as she listened, her expression unchanged. "I'll have to dig up my old report for you if you want all the details. I'll request a copy for you once we're done here."

"Captain…" Rachael started quietly. "May I ask you something?"

"That depends."

"I was lead to believe that Raymond and CIPHER are both under your custody…"

Chris nodded as he realized the unspoken question. The two men had indeed been brought back to the BSAA HQ for interrogation, and to decide what to do with them. They had both assisted in the retrieval of one of the most valuable biological assets they could ever get, but both men had a history. Even so, the two men couldn't reasonably be released, even if they were trusted. The mission in Eastern Europe had made them some large enemies, and Chris had his doubts that even the two's skills would be able to save them from their location being leaked by their former employers. So for now, they were being held, both for everyone else's and their safety.

"That's true. We also have the man known as DOZER in custody. Currently, all three have been exceptionally cooperative with us, and their chances to be released from custody are good. We'll likely end up bringing them into the BSAA though, simply to protect them." Rachael nodded, seemingly relaxing at the reassuring news. "I would like to take the chance to talk with them after all this."

"As would I," Rachael agreed. "I barely knew them, and yet I owe my life to them. If it weren't for them and Parker, I'd likely still be at the bottom of the sea."

Chris watched as Rachael's face shifted slightly, her features adapting a somber expression. Even though the muscles didn't quite manage to perfect the motion, it only leant more weight towards the emotion he could see on it. Sighing, Chris relaxed his shoulders. "I wouldn't worry about them. From what I've heard, they're probably only going to be in questioning a few more days. I'll put in a good word in order to speed up the process."

Rachael nodded her thanks, and Chris allowed a smile to creep into his face. Sherry glanced over at the wall behind the pair, noting a regional map. Looking around, she realized that everyone else was busy looking over maps and reports in what she could recognize as the formation of an infiltration plan. "What are you guys doing?"

"While Rachael did give us a key advantage to fighting bioterrorism, there are still people out there we need to get. We may have found a lead on one of them," Jill explained. Chris gave her a questioning look, but she gave him a reassuring look. "How familiar are you with the Arklay Mansion Incident?"

"I don't really know that much," Sherry admitted. "Supposedly, that was the first outbreak of the T-Virus, before it hit Raccoon City."

"Chris and I were part of the team sent to investigate the mansion after Bravo team went missing. Barry Burton and Albert Wesker were the other members of our team. As it turned out, Wesker worked for Umbrella and nearly had us all killed just so he could collect data on the creature's combat strength. While there, he was killed by a Tyrant, but somehow came back. He's been causing outbreaks wherever he goes, and they've only gotten worse."

"Is there anything we can do to help?" Manuela offered. Jill was about to answer, when Chris interrupted.

"That won't be necessary. Too many operatives will make it hard to get the drop on our target. Besides, Jill and I have personal stakes in this. In any event, they'll want to get a look at Rachael, and I doubt that they'll be done by the time our insertion window arrives. You three are needed more here."

Manuela nodded. "Is there anything else we can help with?"

"I just have one thing," Chris stated solidly. Jill eyed him cautiously as he continued. "You have to understand that I have a history with bioterrorism. I've heard good things about the three of you, but I've seen a lot of good people die as well. Having three people in front of me who each carry a virus responsible for hundreds," he glanced at Sherry, "of deaths or even thousands," he finished, looking to Rachael.

Sherry rubbed her arm nervously while Rachael went completely silent. Manuela fixed Chris with a harsh glare, but Jill beat her to the punch. "Chris! That wasn't called for," she hissed.

"I want to be clear. I trust the three of you. What I don't trust is the viruses in each of you. At a moment's notice, any of you could lose control, becoming a threat to any number of innocent people. I want to believe that won't happen, but I've lost too many people to Umbrella. And I'm not the only one. Claire lost someone she cared about to the Veronica virus. Once he was infected, he tried to kill her. No one is immune."

The room was silent as the words sunk in. Manuela seemed to want to say something, but was unable to find the words. Sherry seemed to pale at the thought that Claire had lost someone.

"But you have to remember that each of you have the potential to save a lot of people too," Jill reminded softly. "Manuela, you saved the President's daughter, and once the antigen is done, the anti-abyss will save even more. We've already seen you do more than almost anyone else to fight bioterrorism when and where it appears. Just because a few people made mistakes, doesn't mean everyone will."

Chris nodded. "I agree with that. While I may not like the idea of anyone walking around while infected, all three of you have already made great sacrifices and strides in countering bioterrorism. I hope we can work together in the future to end this once and for all."

The sound of the speakers interrupted the conversation. "Agents Redfield and Valentine, report for deployment."

"Guess that's your cue."

"We'll talk more after the mission," Chris promised. "If this goes well, we might very well ask for your help afterwards."

"Good luck, both of you." Jill nodded her head in thanks, following quickly after her partner, who was already out the door. Manuela knew from experience that when it came time for a mission, haste was of the essence. Glancing around briefly, she noticed a map on the wall, very similar to the castle that she and Leon had gone through in Spain. It had been rough, but they had made it. Just the thought of it was enough to make her feel confident that Chris and Jill would do just fine.

* * *

Manuela stretched as she stepped onto the mat. After dropping Rachael off at the labs for her daily examination, Sherry and her had elected to head to the sparring arena in order to keep their physique up, as well as vent some of the stress both felt about Chris and Jill's mission.

With a deep breath, Manuela reached to the floor, testing her joints. In the time since learning of her infection, it had reformed her body in many ways. As she reached for her toes, she could feel the muscles of her legs stretch with ease, even as the density gave them more definition. Only three years ago, her body had been frail and weak, but now she could hold her own against trained professionals.

But the change was nothing compared to what she had seen in Sherry. The younger girl had gained significant muscle mass, quickly eclipsing Manuela in strength. Most of the time, she hid it underneath her thick coats, despite assurances that it didn't look bad. While at first Manuela and Leon had been able to train her, it soon became apparent that Sherry needed training in a specialized fighting style. Though she was still faster than most people, she stilled paled when compared to Manuela in terms of speed, and so they had called in a professional in order to teach her a more _direct_ style. Looking across the mat, Manuela was happy to see that Sherry had stripped off her coat in favour of the lighter sparring gear. It was even better to see that she didn't seem to care about the other people in the arena, who were doing a less than stellar job of hiding their interest in the two.

"You sure you're up for this?" Sherry asked nervously. Manuela chuckled softly, shaking her head. Ever since her massive muscle growth, Sherry had grown very cautious ever since her own strength had eclipsed Manuela's.

"It'll be fine," Manuela assured standing up. "Just relax."

"Alright," Sherry agreed hesitantly, rocking back and forth a little to ease her nerves. Both women briefly checked their equipment before edging towards each other. Already Manuela could see the results of their separate trainings, with Manuela taking a bit of a lowered stance, loose and ready, while Sherry stood taller, arms close to her body, muscles tense. Manuela took a breath, readying her attack.

Jabbing forward, she aimed a low, quick strike towards Sherry, expecting the woman to dodge. To her surprise, Sherry did no such thing. Instead, she ground herself firmly, swinging a hard right hook. Manuela's fist impacted Sherry's stomach, which barely budged even under the impact of her attack. Rolling with the momentum, she managed to reduce the impact as Sherry's fist found her side, practically tossing her aside with the force. As she rolled, she realized that if she had been a normal human, the shot might have taken her out of the fight, but her increased speed and endurance had saved her. Rolling to a stand, she regarded Sherry with new found caution. Sherry was simply smiling over her fists. "You've been training."

"Of course. Can't have you showing me up all the time." Manuela smiled as she sized up her opponent. It seemed that Sherry's resilience had increased greatly, preventing Manuela from trying to take her out due to powerful hits. A war of attrition was right out, as she doubted that she could dodge Sherry long enough to even see her falter slightly. She would have to rely on tactics to get the upper hand. Quickly, she dashed forwards, feinting quickly. Sherry threw a shot, but Manuela quickly struck her arm, knocking the attack inside instead of risking the chance of taking it. The attack unbalanced Sherry, allowing Manuela to get in close. Ducking low, she ducked under Sherry's second strike, grabbing her around the waist. While Sherry was strong, she wasn't heavy. The action startled Sherry, who tried to rebalance instead of pummeling her back like she should have.

Twisting, she brought Sherry down, hard. Luckily, the padding prevented either of them from sustaining too much injury. Still, Sherry took the brunt of the impact, gasping in surprise. Manuela didn't allow her a reprieve though, quickly pinning Sherry beneath her. "Uncle?"

"Never," Sherry promised with a smile. Suddenly, she brought her legs up beside Manuela, wrapping them about her waist before launching herself upwards. Her legs acted as a fulcrum, causing Manuela to fall backwards and slam into the padding. Rolling with the motion, she pinned Manuela's legs against her chest before grabbing her hands. With all of Manuela's limbs pinned, she pulled her legs out before applying her weight downwards, trapping Manuela.

For a moment, Manuela struggled, trying to escape the pin, but she gave up quickly. With a sigh, she tapped the padding and Sherry removed her grip, rolling to the side with a laugh. Manuela sat up, stretching. "You've improved a lot."

"Only in terms of my body. You're still a better shot than me."

"That might be true, but you've really improved. It's just the difference with how our viruses worked. I couldn't be anywhere near as strong as you. Besides, while Leon and me are good fighters, it's nice to think that we'll have someone covering us."

"You'll really think there'll be a place on the team for me?"

"Of course. Leon's a bit more of a sharpshooter, so he needs clear shots, and I'm better with mid range. With the combination of the three of us, we'll be able to handle anything they throw at us," Manuela assured. Sherry nodded, sighing. Both of them turned as they heard a small cough behind them. A man stood behind them, and at first Manuela thought they were in trouble, but the smile on his face said otherwise.

"Couldn't help but watch you two fight. Mind if I take a round?"

"I'm a bit tuckered out, but if you want to Sherry, I'd love to watch." Manuela smiled to her companion, who just shrugged calmly, barely tired from the fight. Sherry jumped up to her feet, already getting back into form. Slinking off to the side, Manuela watched with a smile as the two got into form. The man was quite a bit larger than Sherry, and taller. His body told her that he was an avid fighter, and his form was good.

He didn't stand a chance.

* * *

And neither did Chris.

The news hit the base hard. When the captain returned, battered and silent, it had been shocking enough. The empty spot beside him had been even worse. Manuela hadn't even had to ask; Chris' grim silence was enough.

The only words he had spoken since returning were urging the search crews to look everywhere. No number of assurances could placate him, even when the teams told him that they would search for weeks if they had to. It was a promise that she felt sure they would uphold if necessary, considering how everyone respected both Chris and Jill.

After the crews had gone, she had seen the defeated look on his face. With nothing he could do to help, he'd headed to the med bay in order to have his wounds looked at. She had come to check up on him, and found him sitting silently on the bedside while one of the infirmary staff tended his wounds. Chris didn't even look at the man as he worked, staring into the tiling of the floor.

"How's he doing?" Manuela asked, intercepting the man once he was done. The medic sighed.

"He took quite a beat down from what I can tell. Nothing that won't heal, but he's not normally like this. Every time we had to drag him down before he always joked about not needing fixing. He was never silent."

"It's impolite to talk behind someone's back you know," Chris pointed out from his bed. The medic paled and nodded, walking away to attend his duties. Manuela was about to follow him out when Chris spoke again. "I want to talk to you."

Manuela stepped into the room nervously. Chris looked up from the floor, fixing her with a hard, even gaze that made her shiver slightly. Even when they had been in the mission room, he had only felt disapproving. Now he felt positively lethal. She wanted to say something but the words dried up in her mouth before she could think of anything. Finally she managed to force the words out. "What did you want to talk about?"

"He was there. The bastard was there before us," Chris spat venomously. Manuela was confused as to who "he" was for a moment before remembering what Jill had told them. Her eyes widened as she realized that he was talking about Wesker. The only one outside of the base who had been infected and lived to tell the tale. "He killed Spencer too before we even got there. Ran him right through with his bare hands."

Manuela paled at the description. She'd known that Wesker was evil but that was just... horrific. Chris didn't stop, gripping his fists tightly. "We didn't stand a fucking chance! He dodged our bullets for Christ's sake! He came this close to killing me!"

Chris slammed his fist into the table, causing the whole thing to shake violently. If he had hit any harder, Manuela was sure he would have broken it. As it was, she was sure that it would bruise nastily come the next day, but it was the least of his worries. "Jill...damn it, she...I'll get him for this."

Manuela wanted to ask what Jill did, but decided it wasn't her place. She did wonder, however, what Chris had wanted her for. She waited patiently as he breathed in and out angrily. Finally, he leaned forward tiredly, and his voice came out hollow and flat.

"I will destroy this virus, if it's the last thing I do," Chris promised, looking up at Manuela. The deadly look in his eyes was back, and his expression was dead serious as he spoke intently. "I will hunt down every last infected creature on the earth and kill it. And if any of you step out of line, or pose the least amount of threat to anyone, I will not hesitate to kill you. There is nothing good about the virus, least of all those it chooses to bond with. I'm only giving you one chance, for all the people you've helped. But know that my aim is as good as my word."

Manuela nodded quietly, feeling fear coil in her stomach. Part of her wanted to say this was just his reaction to the sudden loss, that he wouldn't dream of doing it, but another part of her knew it had pushed him passed the tipping point. He'd made it clear that he didn't trust them before, despite how much they'd helped. The virus was the factor. At this point, they weren't friends, or allies. They were people who harboured the object of his pain. He wouldn't kill them because they were bad, but because of what they had in them. The potential to harm and kill others.

"Now, get out of my room," Chris commanded quietly, laying down on his bed. He groaned with pain as he lay down, letting out a tired sigh. Manuela nodded, though he didn't see it, before leaving the room. His words haunted her mind, distracting her so much she didn't notice Sherry trying to get her attention until she was bodily seized.

"I heard you went to see Chris. Is he alright? Jesus, I mean…"

"He's alive. But he's...he's not happy. Sherry, I need to tell you something…"

* * *

And thus we reach the end of the first extra. I actually really like Chris, believe it or not. But if RE6 demonstrated anything, Chris can become rather vindictive and angry. I'd daresay that his drive to destroy the virus challenges and surpasses Leon's. He was very close to killing Carla at the end instead of capturing her, so I don't think it's that weird to think that he'd threaten the virus trio (nickname pending). Unlike Carla, though, they're actually good people, so it's more of a close scrutiny thing. In any event, since they work primarily for the U.S., they won't encounter each other much, but it will come up later for other stories. With that said, I hope you enjoyed!


	2. Chapter 2

Extra 02

"I heard things didn't go well."

Manuela nodded numbly. After the failure of Chris' mission, they'd stayed just long enough to give the BSAA the t-Abyss samples, but neither the BSAA or the US government wanted to risk incident by having the trio around the base too long. They had been shipped back to the US post-haste, and it appeared that news travelled quickly, as Leon had returned back from his mission early, waiting for the three. He hadn't said anything upon their return, simply thanking the escorts and helping them inside. All of them had turned in early that night.

"You could say that," Manuela responded at last. Leon nodded in agreement, turning to look at Sherry, who had joined them. Rachael still hadn't left her room since returning, and he didn't need to be a mind reader to know why.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do to help?" Manuela shook her head and Sherry seemed to be lost in thought. Leon was about to speak again when Sherry spoke up.

"Can we talk? Just you and me...that is," Sherry asked nervously. Leon was stunned for a moment, unsure of how to respond. Manuela nodded, standing up.

"Come and get me when you're done," she assured, smiling softly, though it still retained the edge of sadness. She gently squeezed Leon's shoulder as she walked out of the room. Leon turned to Sherry, resting his elbows on the table.

"How can I be of service?" he asked with a small smile.

Sherry snorted slightly at his attempt to lighten the mood before shifting and leaning back in her seat. She seemed to think for a moment before she spoke again. "Chris didn't take it well."

"I can't imagine he would. He lost his partner."

"It was strange," Sherry continued, and Leon realized that she was deep in her own thoughts. "Before the mission, he seemed really strong and brave. Claire used to talk about him all the time in our meetings and letters. Constant praise, aside from the occasional joke because they're family," Sherry admitted with a laugh.

"She talked about how nice he was, and how she wanted me to meet him one day so I could meet the man who taught her how to defend herself. She owed her life to his training, so in a little bit of a roundabout way, I owe my life to him as well. Not that you weren't a part of that," Sherry amended, snapping out of her trance for a moment. Leon just smiled and gestured to continue. "I always looked forward to meeting him. After all, he and Jill...they started the BSAA. Sure, they didn't do the corporate overhead and crap, but it was the two of them that built the thing. I guess I kind of expected a bit of a hero when I saw him. And he lived up to it. Sure, he didn't exactly like us, but he was fair. And the way that the men respected him, you could tell it was because they trusted him, and he trusted them."

"I wasn't there when he told Manuela to get out, but I know he didn't just mean it at her. He meant it to all of us. Back in the room, before everything went down, he talked to us like humans. He sympathized with what we had gone through. But now...I think he just sees the virus. I may as well be a walking bomb to him. At least Manuela and me look human...God I can't imagine how Rachael feels right now…"

Sherry's words failed her and she brought her legs up to her chest, resting her head on her knees. Leon could see she was fighting back tears, and he walked over to her, gently wrapping an arm around her comfortingly. He wanted to say something to help her, but nothing seemed right.

"Leon...what's going to happen to us? If someone like Chris can hate us, what happens if people start calling for-"

"That's not going to happen," Leon interrupted quickly, his voice cold. Sherry turned in surprise and Leon fixed her gaze with his own."Chris is a good man, and he'll come to his senses eventually. He's grieving, but he'll move passed it. It might take time, but he'll get there. I don't know Chris personally, but I know that he's a stronger man than me. He'll come around. I guarantee it."

Sherry smiled thankfully, hugging Leon. The man just smiled and hugged her back. "Thanks Leon. It's nice to hear that."

"Let's go catch up with Manuela. I hear you two have been training a lot."

* * *

Sherry was always happy to blow off steam. The only thing she hated was all the preparation she had to go through if she wanted to give it her all.

"Alright, you know the drill," Manuela said with a light tease, trying to make the situation a little better. Sherry nodded, quickly stripping down to her underwear. The first time they had gone through this procedure, she'd been so embarrassed that she backed out. Since then, it had gotten easier, but she still couldn't meet Manuela's eyes while she worked. The slender and dextrous woman took the offered clothing, folding them nicely before setting them down next to a massive pile of clothing and equipment.

Manuela handed her a set of black leggings, which Sherry took gratefully, slipping into them quickly. The clothing was tight, but not too uncomfortably so. After making sure to adjust them properly, she raised grabbed the shirt that Manuela offered her without looking. Like the leggings, it was also black, and featured long sleeves and a higher neck than most of her wardrobe. Slipping into it, Sherry couldn't help but chuckle at the fact that she looked like a theatre techie with her colour palette.

"Now comes the fun part," Sherry commented dryly, spreading her arms out without prompt.

"I'm sorry we have to go through all of this," Manuela apologized as she lowered the custom armour padding over Sherry's shoulders. The particular design of the chest piece was a modified bullet vest, featuring more separate plates, which could each take more impacts, while not reducing her flexibility too much. "Tell me when it's good."

Sherry nodded in acknowledgement as Manuela's hands worked on the winches built into the suit. With each little tug, the padding grew tighter, supporting her body more. Each time a winch was just right, Sherry told Manuela to move onto the next one. Soon, the vest was in place and Manuela grabbed the next pieces of equipment; her arm padding. Sherry turned her arm as Manuela put her elbow pads on, followed by bracers for her forearms, and segmented overlays for her upper arms. Sherry smiled as she accepted her gloves, one of the few elements of the outfit she had choice over. They had been modified slightly to have grips built along the palm and fingers, but Sherry didn't mind.

Manuela dropped to a crouch and Sherry spread her stance while Manuela began putting her leg armour on. Sherry remembered the relief she had felt when they had told her that the lower half of her equipment would be lighter. Her lower legs were the most heavily armoured part, with both a shin guard and a calf guard. The upper portions of her leg were also armoured, but only on the front. They had initially tried putting armour on the back, but it had messed with her mobility too much, so they had scrapped that concept. They once again repeated the process of tightening the clips for all her limbs until she felt comfortable with the tension.

Manuela handed Sherry her gourget while picking up the final piece with a grunt. Snapping the metal neck guard into place, Sherry took the coat from Manuella easily, marvelling at how strong she had become. The off-white coat was one of the other features she had picked. It was fairly stylish, and she was surprised she had gotten away with it. Once again though, it wasn't untouched. The inside had a mesh to reduce the force of impacts, as well as resist stabbing and other types of attacks like that. Between it and the inner vest, she was protected from many forms of attack, but the whole thing weighed more than most girls of her age and size should have been able to wear. The G-Virus had changed that; while it was still heavy and stifling at times, her training was allowing her to handle it better and better. She giggled as she remembered Leon confiding the fact that a few of the guards had felt a little emasculated at her capability to wear heavier armour easier than they could. It helped her feel a little better whenever she had to sit through the whole procedure.

"Everything alright? Snug and tight?" Manuela asked, performing one last check. Sherry rolled her eyes, glancing over her shoulder with a smile.

"I'm fine _mother_. Jeez, between Leon and you, I can't have any fun."

"You'll get plenty of fun soon enough," Manuela retorted. "Besides, you know I have to spend just as much time with my uniform as you do."

'Yes, but you're not carrying a small tank on your body."

"No, but I am carrying a small medical lab. One slipped tube and I end up with a dose of coagulant when I shouldn't. Add the stab vest to that, and some days I wished I had your strength." Both women fell silent for a moment.

"It's kind of strange, isn't it?" Sherry asked quietly. "I get stabbed, and it's no problem. You get stabbed and you start burning up. But if I get burned, or poisoned, it doesn't end well, while you just purge the material."

"The Veronica virus is not like the G-Virus. It's not as strong, but it's more stable," Manuela stated quietly, gently putting a hand on Sherry's shoulder. "Living with the G-Virus is a battle of the body. You have to take care not to injure yourself. But the Veronica is a battle of the mind. I have to always make sure to be calm and in control."

Sherry nodded solemnly, smiling gently. She supposed it wasn't too bad, but she still didn't like the idea of having to watch herself like some porcelain doll. She had grown so much stronger than the young girl that had left Raccoon City. She had surpassed Leon in physical strength and endurance, but it felt like she was still weaker than him and Claire. Falling asleep in a safety proofed room every night only reinforced that.

Manuela seemed to understand what she was thinking, and took a deep breath, smiling. "Come on. Let's get out there so you can put this stuff to good use."

Nodding enthusiastically, Sherry grabbed her helmet. Truth be told, she was excited to get the chance to test herself again. She would blow them all away this time.

* * *

Both men waited nervously in the hall. Their job this time was to guard the door against the opposing force. They'd pulled the job a couple of times, but each run was getting harder and harder. Even so, they didn't spare a glance towards each other as they waited. When they heard the telltale clicking of a grenade bouncing off the wall, they both dived to the side, taking cover in the alcoves that ran along the hall.

Smoke burst forth, immediately obscuring their vision. One of the men poked around the corner, firing a burst of pellets into the smoke before taking cover just as the return fire struck the wall only fractions of an inch beside him. The panic on his face was evident as they hoped to be able to push back the attackers.

The other man whipped out, a moment of dread passing through him as he saw the figure approaching. Sherry had taken the point on this particular run, bearing a particularly large riot shield with unnatural ease. The shield almost obscured her body entirely, and she only barely had to crouch to stay behind it. Even with as much girth as it had, she was approaching rapidly, her team using her as a mobile cover element. In her other hand, she carried the paint magnum, firing quick shots at the exposed portions of the man. Despite the smoke, her shots were amazingly accurate, hitting the man around where he held his weapon. It occurred to him a moment before he lay down "dead" that she had probably heard his weapon going off and aimed at where she had heard the shots. He had to marvel at the fact that even with her helmet on and so much chaos that she could hear where he had been.

Once her teammates hit the other man with some well placed shots, Sherry eased her posture, pushing towards the door while the rest of her team fanned out. For a moment, she caught a glance of herself in the window of her shield. For all the times she'd worn it, her helmet caught her off guard. The faceplate was a distinctly separate bit from the back half, though the two sealed together when attached. Very little of her face was exposed, with only her icy blue eyes showing in the tinted glass. A flash of a red goggled mercenary flashed through her mind before disappearing. She could hear the slight gasp through her respirator as she pushed the thought away.

"Everything alright Big G?" one of the men asked, concern in his voice. They had all been instructed to immediately pause the simulation if anything went wrong, and there were many times in her early training she had been glad for it. Now, she just felt like she didn't want to hold back.

"I'm fine," she assured, adjusting her stance. Scooting up to the door, one of the men put his hand only inches from the button for the door. They met gazes and Sherry nodded. The man hit the button, and the door began to open upwards. Sherry didn't wait, and to everybody's surprise, she rolled under the door. Keeping the shield up, she smoothly rose to a stand, her hyper reactive senses kicking in.

Immediately identifying three enemy operatives, she whipped the Lightning Hawk replica towards the first one, scoring a headshot on the surprised enemy. She was able to get another easy shot on the second one while they were still processing the attack. For the third, she had to track a little in order to get the shot, but with how slow they were moving, it wasn't hard. By the time her team breached, they already had the upper hand. Sliding into cover, she temporarily freed her hand from the shield to top up her ammo. She had two shots left, but Leon had trained her well. With precision and speed, she was able to reload the gun in a matter of seconds. Topped up and ready, she grabbed the shield again before stepping out of cover, performing an advance around the enemy's side, trying to flush or flank them our of their entrenchment.

The guards fell back, ducking passed some of her shots, but soon her side was clear. She took a half step to regroup with her squad when she heard a sound to her left. Immediately, she snapped her shield in between her and the noise, batting aside the gun of her ambusher. Through the glass, she could see that one of the guards had hid off to the side, ready to flank a flanker. Not relenting, she pulled back the shield before grounding herself and throwing her weight into it. Picking the man up against the broad side, she slammed him into the wall. Hard. The cough told her he was stunned and as she pulled back, she watched as he fell to the ground, performing a quick headshot to make certain.

The rest of the engagement didn't last long, between her unstoppable assault and her squad's marksmanship and teamwork. Once the last "enemy" had been put down, everyone immediately relaxed. A few of her teammates helped the "dead" to their feet, laughing in celebratory ways. Sherry returned to the man she had slammed and helped him up. "Sorry about that."

"Damn, you hit like a fucking Mac truck," the man laughed. "Don't worry, the only thing hurt is my pride."

Sherry chuckled along, helping him take a few steps so he could regain his balance and orientation. Once he was back to capacity, he thanked her for her help, moving aside so her team could congratulate her. As the men and women flooded in around her, she felt a sense of pride swell in her. Looking at one of the cameras, she flashed a smile, her happiness unbidden. In that moment, she had surpassed the expectations of everyone, especially herself.

* * *

Sherry was speechless, and could only rush forward with a smile to embrace her long time friend, Claire Redfield. "What are you doing here?"

"I had some time off, and Leon here told me that you would be having a training simulation today. I wanted to see how you did. And let me tell you, you did great kid!"

"I'm almost 20 Claire, I'm not a kid anymore," Sherry protested, though she was smiling as she did. As she spoke, she noticed that Claire herself looked a bit more mature since the last time they had spoken. She'd lost some of the softness to her features she had before, but she still looked young. Her smile was as bright and hopeful as ever though, and her eyes still gleamed with an energy that Sherry could never forget in the woman.

"That's right! How could I forget?" Claire exclaimed dramatically, gently knocking her hand against her head. "Your birthday's going to be in a few days, right?"

Sherry nodded and Claire's grin grew wider. "I must just be able to stick around for it. Only just," she finished with a wink. "Where's everyone else? Leon told me there was another one of you here."

"Oh Manuela! Here, let me introduce you two," Sherry offered, grabbing the older woman's hand excitedly. Claire laughed as she was dragged along towards the locker room, where Manuela had offered to put away Sherry's outfit for her, claiming she "deserved to go and celebrate, not do laundry." Manuela was just coming out of the room as the pair arrived, surprised to see Sherry back so soon, and with company.

"What's going on Sherry? Who's this?"

"Claire Redfield. Pleased to meet you," Claire explained, offering her hand, which Manuela took, still slightly stunned by the sudden flurry of energy that Sherry had become. "You must be Manuela. Sherry's wrote to me about you a couple of times. Thanks for looking after her."

Manuela was silent for a moment as she allowed herself to catch up with the conversation. Her face lit up in surprise as she put two and two together. "You're Chris' sister," she blurted out before she could stop herself.

Claire's smile dropped for a second at the mention of her brother, but she was only out for a moment. "Yeah, that's him. I'm told you're a friend of Leon's?"

Sherry snorted a little, to the surprise of both women. Claire looked between the two in confusion while Manuela crooked an eyebrow in confusion. Sherry waived them off, composing herself, albeit poorly. After a moment, Manuela turned back to Claire. "I'm Leon's partner. We've known each other for about four years now. You've known each other for...eight years now?"

"I wouldn't say we've really known each other all that much. You learn a few things when you survive a zombie apocalypse together, but I was focused on finding Chris, so we didn't really get a chance to get to know one another before he became an agent. Still, he was there to get me help when I ended up in Antarctica."

"That's right! You were one of the people responsible for Alexia's death," Manuela realized, trailing off. Claire cocked her head, curious.

"Yeah. Though Chris was the one who actually fought her when she was mutated by the Veronica Virus. She-" Claire paused as she realized why Manuela had reacted the way she had. "You...you have the virus in you too, right? The Veronica virus, that is."

Manuela nodded. "I was born with a rare disease that would have cut my life short. My father used the virus to help me survive, but in the process, he killed dozens of girls in order to keep me from mutating."

Both of them fell silent as the weight of the Veronica incidents rested on their minds. Finally, Claire spoke. "I, uh, had a friend when I was in Antarctica. His name was Steve Burnside. Cocky, but he was really sweet. Well, when he got taken to Alexia's facility, we got separated and I uh...I found him. Alexia had infected him with the Veronica virus.'

Claire's voice broke a little as she remembered the incident, but she straightened up, composing herself. "He tried to kill me you know, but I managed to escape him. Alexia must have woken up around then, because she tried to kill me. She would have too if Steve hadn't attacked her. As thanks, she killed him instead."

"My last moments with him were holding him in my arms as he died. I remember being so angry at Alexia, and especially at her virus. I wanted to go after her and make sure that she would never hurt anyone ever again. Chris was the one to end up defeating her...in the end." Claire was silent for another moment before she met Manuela's gaze. "My brother's afraid of you. But I'm not. I saw what a human being can do in the face of the virus. He may have died for it, but Steve was human in the end. I have full faith that you are too."

Manuela looked at Claire in surprise, unable to form any words. Claire finally took the initiative, putting a hand on her neck. "Sorry, that was kind of heavy, wasn't it? I guess we both kind of just started talking. You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks though." Claire just smiled before turning back to Sherry.

"Sorry about that. Guess we got a bit sidetracked. So, birthday girl, any big plans?"

"Uh, I hadn't thought about it," Sherry stuttered, caught unawares by the sudden change in topic. Claire tsked as she shook her head.

"You have to have have something you want to do. Come on Manuela, back me up here."

"She's right," Manuela agreed. "How about some new coats? I know you don't like your uniform."

"Or maybe we could get you a combat knife," Claire suggested, prompting surprised looks from both women. She shrugged with a smile. "My brother was big on teaching me self defense. Guess I kind of just picked up some of it along the way. But hey, whatever you want. Let's walk and talk."

Claire turned to lead them back outside when she caught sight of another person in the room. "Actually, I'll catch up in a moment."

Jogging over, Claire stopped in front of Leon, who was just smiling lightly at the scene. "Glad to see you could make it."

"Wouldn't have missed it for the world," Claire assured.

"I know you wouldn't. The only thing that could stop you is your work. But seriously, thanks for coming. Sherry looks happier than I've seen her in the past few days," Leon commented, looking over the redhead's shoulder to watch Sherry talking excitedly with Manuela. Claire watched for a moment as well, smiling at the woman she'd seen grow up from a little girl. After a minute, Leon spoke again, his voice low and serious. "How's your brother?"

"He's the reason I have time off. As soon as I heard what happened, I headed home to see if I could help him at all. With Barry still laying low in Canada, Jill was the last member of the S.T.A.R.S. team beside him and Wesker. He's...not taking it well. He barely sleeps and he spends all day coordinating missions between reading over the reports on the cliffs. It's not healthy. One of my friends at the BSAA told me that they're going to force him to take some time off before putting him back on the field, but I don't think he's going to get over it."

"If there's anything we can do to help, just ask. The base is open to you for as long as you need as well," Leon offered. "Chris is a good man."

"I know he is," Claire agreed with a sad smile. She lightly punched Leon's chest. "But hey, so are you." Glancing over her shoulder, Claire looked at Manuela before winking to Leon. "So's she."

Leon didn't have time to respond before Claire hurried back towards the two. "I'll talk to you later!"

He could only shake his head in amusement as the three women walked through the doors, chatting happily; a moment of quiet in the brooding atmosphere.

* * *

And there we have it. Another little side chapter. I felt like Sherry would take Chris' fall particularly hard, given how much she looks up to Claire, so I thought it would be nice to also give her a moment to shine, and show how much she's grown.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Through the window, Leon could see the cold morning fog rolling across the river. The days had been getting progressively colder, and even inside the facility it was beginning to be felt. The normally stuffy air was beginning to have a thin trickle of cold that leaked through the windows and doors, and it seemed everyone noticed. Manuela had been spending more time in the greenhouse, and Rachael was spending large amounts of time in the pool.

The sound of shoes informed Leon of Sherry's arrival, and the blond stepped beside him, clutching a mug in her hand. Her normally straight hair was a mess, and Leon could tell at a glance of the reflection that she hadn't applied her body harness yet. He took a moment to watch her movements, surprised at the power and grace with which she moved when she wasn't confined inside her suit. Most of the time she could get away without it, but like a cane it was there when she needed it. Some days, the growing pains were worse, and she needed to tighten them more than others. He had gotten more than used to helping her when those moments happened.

Ever since the development of the eye, she had been experiencing the pains. The doctor's hypothesized that it was her body suppressing the viral development, quite successfully actually. The lack of new mutations didn't help the pain she felt in the here and now though.

"Morning sleeping beauty," Leon commented, lightly nudging Sherry with his shoulder. While she was more than easily able to resist his shove, she played along with a smile. "What's with the bed head?"

"I haven't taken a shower yet. I needed a warm drink first."

"Why's that?" Sherry and the others had been restricted from drinking too much caffeine or any other kind of stimulant, in case the chemicals interacted...poorly with their systems. A quick glance into her mug confirmed that it wasn't coffee inside, but what he presumed was warm cider.

"My head's all cramped. I needed to be able to clear it before I could even think of using the shower."

"More growing pains? Your helmet's-"

"No, it's more like when I was a kid and I got a cold. Just feels like my head's been stuffed with crap." Leon spared a glance at her nose, and noticed that it was neither runny nor red. Sherry had always been able to identify when her body was reacting on her, and stop it quickly, so there had been very few incidents. If she didn't think it was the virus, Leon was concerned as to what it could be.

"If you're sick, you should see the doctor. Just to make sure it's nothing unusual," Leon pressed and Sherry nodded sleepily.

"I know...I just wanted to wake up first. Talking to her's just going to mean a thousand and one tests, and I barely have enough patience when I'm awake to deal with that," Sherry protested. Leon had to nod in agreement.

"Alright, but after your drink, you're going to see Dr. Butler. And you're going to sit while doing it."

"Alright _dad_ ," Sherry replied sarcastically, walking over to a nearby couch, setting her tea on the side table. Collapsing into the soft furniture with a sigh, she laid her head back against the cushions, looking visibly relieved. "Much better."

"When was the last time you had a cold?"

"You would know. For the record, not once since Raccoon. How do you deal with this stuff? Almost makes me glad I'm a freak of nature."

"The rest of us deal with it by downing metric tonnes of drugs and expensive doctor visits."

"I'm just glad that the doctors are employed by the government. I can't imagine how much it would cost to see someone as often as I do."

"I doubt any common doctor would be able to take care of you. 'Excuse me doc, I might have a case of a zombie disease that was manufactured by my father that mutates my body.' Somehow, I don't think they teach that in med school. Speaking of, have you been getting ready for the next semester?"

"Ugh...don't remind me. Who's idea was it for me to go to college?"

"The brass actually. They figured once this is all over, you'd be able to get a normal job like everyone else, even though the government will still be giving you support."

"Do you think this will ever be over Leon? How long have you been doing this for?"

Leon sighed and leaned back on the couch. "Closing on nine years. I keep hoping that it'll end soon, but I doubt it. The T-virus existed for years before I was even aware of it, and the G-virus was an improvement on that. Even then, the Veronica virus was another mutation. Much like the virus itself, the terrorists are adapting and changing. It'll end one day, I just doubt it'll be during my career. But I believe that it'll be done by the time your generation takes over."

"Man, you're making yourself sound old," Sherry began to chuckle, but was interrupted with a cough. Doubling over, Sherry brought her hand to her mouth as her cough worsened. It wasn't a dry cough, but a wet, hacking one. Sherry fell to her knees with pain, shaking as her coughs died down.

Leon quickly moved beside her, hand on her back. His hand flew to his belt, activating the emergency signal they'd all been equipped with. Sherry's shaking subsided, and she drew her hand away from her mouth. The palm of her glove was covered in a clear slime, one that Leon felt altogether too familiar with. He heard the doors slam open and the sound of boots rushing in and he turned to the newly arrived security detail. "Get her to the doc!"

The men didn't respond as they assisted laid down the stretcher, moving Sherry carefully but quickly. Leon frowned as they additionally strapped her in. It was a necessary measure, but not a pleasant one. Still, given what he remembered from when he last saw that kind of slime, it would be a welcome measure.

* * *

Sherry's grip on Leon's hand bordered on bone breaking, but Leon refused to let go. She'd been groaning in agony for a while now, and it only seemed to be getting worse. The x-ray they'd gotten had been blurry at best, but it had shown them the problem.

A G-larvae.

The parasite had apparently been grown of her own tissue and was currently maturing at an extreme rate in her stomach. The doctor expected that any minute it would be expelled from her body, which had been the cause of her coughing, as her body had prepared her for the act. There wouldn't be enough time to get her prepped for a surgery to remove it. It took a lot of meds to knock Sherry out, and it was always took a few minutes for it to work. Instead, the doctor had simply given Sherry as many painkillers as she could, and was keeping some ipecac handy for when the moment drew near. Sherry was seated carefully on the couch, practically doubled over in pain.

Leon glanced through the window to the adjoined room, spying Manuela and Rachael through the glass. Neither of them had been allowed in, and Leon was only allowed to stay by virtue of the need to prevent the G virus from accidentally spreading, as well as to deal with the larva when it was produced. Even without being able to communicate with Manuela, he could tell she was worried sick.

"How are you feeling Sherry? How close is it?"

"Jesus...ah! I think it's...ugh, coming soon. Fuck why can't this be over!" Sherry's protests were almost too much for him to handle, but he pushed aside his anger, trying to be as comforting to her as possible. He noticed immediately when her hand clenched harder, nearly breaking his bones.

"Doc! It's happening!"

"Hold her mouth open!" Leon obeyed, gripping Sherry's jaw so that she couldn't clench, while the doctor quickly and effectively thrust the ipecac into Sherry's mouth. Leon held her mouth closed without needing to be told, and Sherry did her best to swallow, forcing the plant down. The effect was immediate, and Sherry's arms flailed out as she was hit with a wave of nausea.

Landing on her hands and knees, her posture locked up and she groaned painfully, stomach sucking in a desperate attempt to expel the unwanted creature. She coughed a couple of times, slime spilling from around her clenched teeth. Her groans grew quicker and more pained until they joined together into a pained whine.

Which then gave way to a horrific sound from her throat as the G began to move up her throat. Leon had to compare it to someone vomiting, but very slowly and painfully. As Sherry struggled, he could see the mass moving up her throat, _wriggling_ disturbingly. Slime began to pour profusely from her mouth and she tried to cough but found herself unable to. Finally, the larva reached her mouth and Leon could see the pinkish flesh hang out before dropping unceremoniously in a wave of slime. With a strained cough, Sherry tried to expel as much of the stuff from her throat and stomach as she could before weakly falling to the side, drained from the effort.

"Mr. Kennedy! The larva!" Leon didn't need to be told twice as he pulled Sherry away from the pink mass before letting the doctor support her. In an instant, his pistol was drawn and he fired a shot into the creature's center. When it failed to cease twitching, he plugged a few more rounds into it. In the back of his mind, he noted that even so fresh, it was far more resilient than the ones he'd encountered in Raccoon City. It didn't bode well.

But he had more pressing things to worry about, namely the exhausted girl in the doctor's arms. Hurrying over, he gently took her from the doctor, cradling her gently. He didn't dare shake her, in case even that much was too much for her system. "Sherry? Can you hear me?"

Leon was peripherally aware of the other doctors entering the lab now that the danger had passed. A few began taking care of the deceased specimen, while the rest surrounded the unconscious girl, taking vitals. Leon could only listen as they spouted off numbers and examinations. In the chaos, the only peace to him was the fact that of all the exclamations he could recognize, none of them were bad.

It seemed luck was on her side again.

Still, he shrugged off the doctor's urges for him to take a break, even though he couldn't have left the lab if he had wanted to. Though the worst had passed, there was still the possibility of infection for anyone involved due to the larva's...exit. Once Sherry was settled into a bed to recover, he allowed himself a momentary reprieve.

Sitting down on one of the chairs, he rubbed his forehead, groaning deeply. He looked up through his fingers to watch Sherry. It pained him to see all the straps in place, but it would have hurt him more to see her suffering. Nearly everything was held down; her arms, legs, torso. Even her head was held down in several places. There was no doubt she'd be sore as hell when she woke up.

Leon's attention was caught when he heard a buzz behind him, and for a moment, his hand flew to his pistol before recognizing it as the alert that someone outside wanted to speak to someone inside. Turning, he realized that Manuela and Rachael were still there, looking on in worry. Leon stood up and walked over to the window, turning on the intercom. "What have the team told you so far?"

"Not much. Just that Sherry began coughing a lot and you called the security team. What happened?" Manuela's voice cracked a little as her thin veneer of calm failed her, and Leon could see her gaze was beyond him towards Sherry.

"She was complaining of a headache, and I told her to see the doc. We had barely been talking for ten minutes when she suddenly began coughing. And not the dry kind. You saw where that lead."

"What was that thing?"

"A G. When the G-virus doesn't find a suitable host, it instead forms a parasite inside the body that then bursts from the host and grows into a monstrosity."

"But I thought that Sherry was perfectly bonded with the virus? How did it-?" Leon quirked an eyebrow at her sudden pause, turning to see Doctor Butler had somehow managed to escape his notice and approached the group.

"That might actually be the problem, I'm afraid," Dr. Butler commented. "The G-virus naturally wants to mutate the host, but in Sherry's case, it's not being allowed to. I believe that this may have triggered the G spawning inside her, but the fact that she registers as a G-mutant is what saved her. Instead of bursting out, it instead behaved as a G would by expelling itself through the throat."

"So what comes next doc?" Rachael asked, breaking her silence. "Will she...change?"

"I doubt it. As I said, this is because she's _not_ changing. This process is a direct indication of the success we've had suppressing the virus' mutations. Now that we know what we're dealing with, we should be able to help her prepare for it in the future"

"How often do you think this will happen?"

"Not often. After all, this has been the first time in years that it's happened, and now we are prepared to take care of it. With the sample we have right now, we should be able to understand more about what's going on. Ideally, next time we want to capture the larva alive, but Sherry's safety comes first."

"Is she going to recover?" Rachael asked, leaning uncharacteristically close to the speaker. Seeing her care so much...it made Leon smile slightly. The doctor seemed to notice the subtle tone of concern in Rachael's voice.

"She'll probably regain consciousness in an hour or so. From what we can tell, she's fine now, so we'll be able to remove the straps before she even begins to stir, but we want to perform another x-ray just to be sure. If you'll permit it, we'll have her in and out in just a few minutes." Doctor Butler looked at Leon expectantly, and he nodded his approval. She gave a small bow in thanks before tapping a button on her hip. Leon watched for a moment as the team worked quickly to cart Sherry off to an adjacent room. Leon just hoped that one G was all they would have to deal with today.

* * *

The first thing Sherry felt upon waking up was a horrible soreness in her jaw. She resisted the urge to curse, just in case the doctors were in the room. Removing her arm from underneath the blankets, she rubbed her jaw to try and numb some of the pain as she shifted herself to a sitting position. Opening her eyes, she sighed as she found herself in the quarantined medbay. Looking around, she was able to see that it was still in lockdown state. The sound of light snoring caught her attention and she turned to see Leon in a nearby chair, sleeping in a hunched over position. The sight made her smile, and she continued looking around, trying to piece together what had happened.

Her eyes fell on the side table, where a clipboard lay. The papers were slightly misaligned, and she figured that Leon had been reading them. Reaching over, she groaned as her body protested the use of her muscles. Reading through the text, she wished Manuela were around. She had a better idea of what all the medical terms might have meant. Sherry realized that soon enough, she'd be studying the same thing, but in a professional standing. Her thought was interrupted as she flipped the page, and saw the images inside.

The pinkish mass of tentacles and muscles pictured made her skin crawl, all the more so as she remembered the process of throwing it up. Deep in the recesses of her mind, she could feel another memory coming to her, causing her to shake. Her breathing became shallow as the room began to fade away.

Bed railings shifted into the rusty, dirty catwalk guard rails. Light faded as the sterile walls of the ward disappeared into darkness, with only a few points turning into red brick walls, crusted over with slime. From the foot of her bed, the a figure rose up, seeming to almost create itself from the shadows. It took Sherry a moment to place the features, but she soon recognized the greying hair and jowls from a file image.

Brian Irons, the corrupt, sadistic police chief of Raccoon City. His history of violence and brutality towards women long predated his deal with Umbrella. More importantly though, he was killed by a secondary infection from the G-Virus.

"You...you're dead!" Sherry tried to back away from the man, but her limbs felt weak and useless. She overestimated the motion, hands flying up as her grip failed. Her eyes widened further in fear as she saw her arms.

Her small, child-like arms. Glancing down, she realized she was in a familiar white school uniform, along with accompanying blue pants. Crawling back in fear, she couldn't get her hands and feet to cooperate, and her panic grew as Irons turned towards her, an evil smile growing on his darkened, and bloodied face. He took a threatening step forward, his movement unnatural and inhuman. He growled in pain at the action and Sherry took the opportunity to crawl back.

Suddenly, a thin leg stepped passed her, and she looked up at the familiar form of Claire, who was staring down Irons through the sights of a shotgun. Sherry's heart soared as her saviour took aim and fired. She didn't spare a moment before reloading and pumping him with a double dose of lead. With a satisfied nod, Claire turned towards Sherry, offering her hand with a reassuring smile. Sherry reached up to take it, but Claire suddenly shuttered, and gave a wet cough. Sherry watched as she coughed up blood, the dark red staining her normally pale face.

Claire's body suddenly lurched up, and her body arced through the air into the darkness. Where she stood was a walking abomination. It's general appearance was similar to that of her mutated father halfway to his ultimate demise, but all the human features had been grown over with coils of flesh and muscle. Pulsating mouths adorned its body, slowly opening and closing, rings of teeth wriggling into the depths.

Between the creature's legs, she could see the corpse of Chief Irons on the metal floor, chest ripped apart in a bloody explosion. The creature took a step forward, the large, cancerous flesh sack on its back swaying grotesquely. Its breathing was erratic, and its face seemed to be twisted into a horrible smile. Sherry couldn't breathe as it brought a massive clawed hand up, blocking the remaining light. The only thing she could do was scream.

* * *

Leon startled awake as he heard the screaming, and immediately drew his gun. He quickly spotted the source of the sound.

Sherry was curled up on the bed, covering her head like a little child would. Her scream was piercing, even as it was smothered by her tightly curled form. Through the gap in her arms, Leon could see her wide eyes, unfocused and terrified. He recognized the signs as someone experiencing a flashback.

"Sherry! Sherry! Listen to me!" Leon tried to gently get her attention, knowing that grabbing her would only end poorly. It seemed to have an effect, because her gaze snapped towards him, and he could see her eyes begin to focus. She reached out slowly, her fingers gripping the bed sheets that she had thrown about in her panic. Slowly, she propped herself up, her normally strong arms barely able to support herself.

"Leon...I...there was…" Sherry's thoughts were disorganized as she spoke, slowly looking about like she was suffering from sleep deprivation.

"You were having a flashback. Do you remember what you saw?"

"Irons...and a G. It killed Claire...Jesus Christ…" Sherry muttered, drained of all energy, drawing her legs to her chest. Leon sat beside her on the bed, wrapping an arm protectively around her.

"Claire's fine. You saw her just the other day. I can call her up if you want," Leon offered. Sherry seemed conflicted, so Leon pulled out his phone, tapping one of the quick dial options. The phone had barely begun to ring when Claire answered.

"Leon? What's up?"

"Sherry wanted to talk with you," Leon explained simply, knowing nothing else needed to be said. Claire acknowledged, asking someone in the background for a moment, which Leon took to hand the phone to Sherry, who held the phone almost reverently to her ear.

Before Leon had been reunited with the young girl, Sherry and Claire had been close. After the incident, it was Claire that had been there to help her through thick and thin. Claire had told him of countless stories, including how Sherry had sometimes come to her in the night after having a nightmare. It was expected behaviour from someone so young having suffered through something so terrible. It was different as she grew older; the nightmares never really left, and it became clear that it was a real and true fear. It was never in response to the t-virus though; only the G. The doctor's theorized it was because of William's relentless pursuit. The single recurring monster was the one that terrorized her the most.

That one fear itself was not enough for the brass to decide she couldn't fight, especially considering that Leon, Manuela, and Angela had helped remove the threat of the g-virus for the time being. The provider had been tracked down and the operation stopped. Even so, there was relatively little fear that it would be used; the mutations were dangerous and unpredictable, not to mention hard to utilize properly.

Leon listened idly as the two women talked, and smiled as Claire skillfully directed the conversation towards more pleasant topics, and he overheard them planning another visit after her latest mission. It had something to do with some islands around Southeast Asia, but Leon was just happy to hear that Claire and Sherry would be able to see each other again, despite the recentness of their last encounter. As time rolled on, it seemed Claire was becoming more busy than he was. It made sense; there wasn't much in terms of high profile bioterrorism lately, so it was mainly up to groups like TerraSave to offer help whenever and wherever they could.

The call came to an end, and Sherry had to stifle a yawn as she said her goodbyes. She handed the phone to Leon after ending the conversation, and he tucked it away before gently guiding her down. "You should rest."

"I know...remind me never to go drinking again," Sherry jested tiredly, withdrawing under the blankets. Leon chuckled and gently tucked her in, watching to make sure she fell asleep soundly.


	4. Chapter 4

Extra 4

Focusing deeply, Rachael mentally prepared herself for her exercises.

Ignoring the pair of assistants in the room, she breathed slowly. The gill-like structures on her neck shuddered slightly with each breath, but were barely perceptible to anyone else.

Rachael could feel her muscles twitch in protest as she tried to open her mouth. The split in her head had weakened her muscles significantly, making it hard to control. Her mouth attempted to curl into an 'O', but she tried her best to just part her lips, taking in a shaky breath. Forcing her gills shut, she momentarily choked as she readjusted her breathing, trying to take in air through her trachea.

The sound of her own breathing were almost enough to make her quit when she had first started; the raspy, monstrous breaths were unpleasant to say the least, but she had grown used to it. As she continued, her breathing eased, and the raspy edge faded away to light breaths.

Patiently, she waited for her light headedness to subside. Dimly, the words of the doctor filtered through her mind, and she passed the time by contemplating on her words. According to the doctors, the virus had somehow lowered the amount of oxygen her cells needed to maintain their functions. Her gills only filtered so much of it, so when she actually used her mouth to breath, it was equivalent to getting much higher doses of oxygen.

As the buzzing in her head passed, she focused on the next part of her routine. Focusing on her face, she attempted to feel her long useless eye. It had taken her a while to sense the motions, but she had managed to regain the ability to move her eye, as well as to be able to move her eyelid. She wasn't sure if it was a useful skill or not, but if she could make a habit of looking at people when speaking to them, it would make her feel better.

Satisfied that she could still control the motion, she took a deeper breath. Slowly, she raised her right limb, letting the two forearms hand loose. The whole limb felt like a strange hand. When she had first regained her sentience, she had thought it was two whole hands, but it had actually formed from a split in her original hand.

Rachael hissed as she focused on her arm, trying to will only one of the appendages to move. At first, the muscles had only been useful for swinging her arm wildly, but practice had allowed her to gain some control over them. The corner of her mouth involuntarily sneered as she focused on moving the right appendage, slowly lifting it upwards. The muscles in the other arm twitched, trying to mimic the motion, and she felt a small amount of pain as their shared muscles stretched, trying to accommodate the gap between them.

Holding it a moment, Rachael focused on breathing deeply, her other hand clenching as she willed the pain away. As soon as the pain worked its way up to her face and she could feel her face began to split as her reactive aggression kicked in. Allowing the limb to fall back to its limp state, she breathed deeply waiting until it had subsided before repeating it with the other side.

It felt strange, manipulating two arms on the same limb. She had never been muscular, so feeling them work beneath her skin was a strange sensation. Given how rubbery her body was, all the layers roiled passed each other as necessary to facilitate the motion.

Letting the other arm down, she focused her attention out towards the ends of her paired arms, to the three 'fingers' that lay on the end of each one. The left one hand more pronounced fingers, actually capable of independent motion, but the right one was more wing-like, with the fingers moving in a wave.

"Can you help me?" Rachael asked quietly. One of the assistants bowed before walking over. It was standard procedure that if someone gave a nonverbal response, they had to exaggerate it so she could sense them. Holding out her arm, she waggled the less developed limb. The assistant once again bowed in acknowledgement, gently grabbing the two outermost ones.

Slowly, Rachael moved the muscles, feeling them spasm. The weak muscles had trouble operating under her command, and she felt bad for the assistant that was helping her, since he would feel the writhing, twitching flesh beneath. Soon enough, with the assistant's assistance, she was able to focus on the individual muscles, wiggling just the one, even if it was in just a small circle.

The assistant shifted his grip, pinning a different pair. They repeated the procedure for the other two finger, before repeating the whole thing a few times. "Thanks."

The assistant stepped aside, letting her continue. Shifting her focus over to her more developed fingers, she began flexing them. The long, clawed digits moved slowly, like kelp in the waves. Clenching, stretching, twisting; Rachael went through all the motions.

Rachael didn't focus on the other hand; aside from the slightly lengthened segments, and the claw-like nails, it was just as functional as it had been before. Instead, she contorted, laying her legs out in front of her.

The disc-like projections on her legs meant that she had to hold her legs a bit closer so they wouldn't scrape along the floor, but unlike her arms, the muscles in her legs were quite strong, and she was easily able to hold the position. Lifting up one leg, she stretched out her foot.

The appendage was like a foot, and more like a clawed fin, if she were being honest with herself. Most of the time if she walked about the halls, the actual appendage itself lay against the back of her leg, joining the end of her calf in a hardened joint that acted as a replacement foot. Her foot itself was rarely used outside of swimming.

As she used the muscle, the appendage flipped around the joint, slowly unfurling. Each digit, while attached, moved on its own, unfolding with a wave like motion. Pressing her foot back to the floor, she sighed as she felt the pleasant stretching of the muscles. Unlike with her arms, the when she stretched these muscles, there was no tension, just relief.

She copied the motion with her other foot, with both of them lying out flat. The urge to hum her relief was strong, but she knew the sound would only end up as a gurgle, and so she held it back for now. As the pleasant sensation faded, she firmly planted her feet before outstretching her arms to either side.

Slowly, she turned her body feeling her side muscles stretch. One thing she had never understood was why her torso had remained so relatively unchanged, given that most of the actual physical damage had been to her neck and torso. Still, when it came to the muscles there, she wasn't complaining.

Compared to her prior exercises, the next set were fairly standard, consisting of basic stretches, each altered slightly to accommodate her body. By the end, she felt somewhat reinvigorated.

"I'm ready to leave," she announced simply. Her assistants bowed, opening the door for her. She nodded her thanks, avoiding using her voice as much as possible as she left, navigating by memory back to her room.

* * *

Once more, Rachael was considerate of the extra lengths the agency went to accomodate her needs. The large tub installed in her room had so many custom features that she doubt she could have kept track of all of them. Still, the one she was most appreciative of was the adhesive sides.

With some difficulty, she began to slowly take off her uniform. Considering nothing had been able to fit her, they had finally managed to get something she could work with. Using her hands to hold either side of her shoulder, she took her more dextrous hand and unzipped the zipper that ran along her shoulder, allowing the front and back to completely separate. She copied the motion with the other side, allowing the whole uniform to slip off.

The air on her body felt nice. Up until only a little while ago, who portions of her skin had been obstructed by the remains of her old uniform, partially ingrown into her flesh. The doctors had assumed that she had just fused with it, but in response to an infection she had gotten, they had found that they could remove it.

Being free of the last shred of the fabric had been freeing, but came with its own problems. Predominately that apparently not all her features had been lost in the process of her transformation. A new uniform had been created for her, this one removable.

Free of her trappings, Rachael wasted no time in leaning over the edge of the tub. Letting her muscles go, she slid in headfirst, slithering into the water. Once she was submerged, she curled tightly, the plates on her legs and arms forming an almost protective shell around her. Combined with the warm water, she felt almost comfortable.

With her gills flapping, she stayed like that for a long time, just listening to the jets working to keep the water at her preferred temperature. Eventually though, she decided it was time to get some actual washing done.

Uncurling herself, she reached for the edge of the tub, her good hand tracing along the edge. Though her fingers were too toughened for details, she could feel the storage for her personal care products.

Reaching into the compartment, she grabbed the bar of soap awkwardly. A small smile worked its way onto her lips as she realized her grip was getting better. Being forced to use her left hand was difficult, but she could manage it.

As she began scrubbing along her right arm, she was thankful that she had decided to go with the harder soap. The amount of force she had to apply just to keep hold, as well as the abrasiveness of her armouring made it so that anything softer would have fallen apart too quickly to be of any use. Carefully, she wiped down the chitin, making sure to get every projection and horn. It tickled a bit when she came to the joint between the split arms, but passed soon enough. The more vestigial fingers were a bit more blubbery in terms of the flesh, so she had to pin it against the side of the tub as she worked.

Once her arm was washed, she began working on her left leg. It had suffered less from mutation, and was easier to clean. She felt almost human as she ran the bar of soap along her thigh, letting herself hum appreciatively this time. To her pleasure, the sound only had the mildest edge of a gurgle.

As she reached her foot, the flesh hardened and warped, and she suppressed a hacking giggle as she wiped down her foot. Despite the hardened flesh, it still retained the ticklishness she had previously had.

Doing the same thing to the other foot, she had to skip over the hardened sections of bone-like wraps around her leg as she washed. It went faster than the other leg, since there was less flesh, and soon she made it back to her hip.

Sighing, she set the soap aside, as it had done its work. Reaching over, she felt her file. Carefully navigating it into her hand, she lifted her leg, allowing the knee to invert. Propping her foot on her shoulder, she held her thigh with her split arm while she pressed the file against the chitinous coils on her leg.

Focusing all of her attention on her activity, Rachael began scraping away the top layers of the coils, feeling the more scarred and grimy layers sand off. The sound was hardly pleasant, but the feeling at the end of being clean would be worth it. Rachael worked slowly and carefully, especially as the coils neared her flesh.

She followed the coils from her hip, all the way down her thigh. Around her knee, the loop went wider to avoid restricting her movement, but then became tighter as it wound to termination about her mid-calf. As she finally made it down to the end, she could practically feel the weight difference that all her work had wrought.

Flipping her knee back properly, she let it fall back under the water before setting to work on her right arm. Despite the lack of intense growths, the few that were there she filed down to prevent them snagging on things, as well as to reduce her monstrous outline.

She hissed as she accidentally filed one down a little too far, snagging a bit of her flesh in a stroke. Though she didn't worry about a wound, the pain caused her to feel a momentary surge of rage. Her gills flared outwards as she focused on breathing, purposefully flooding her lungs with oxygen as she breathed with both systems. The light-headedness soon followed, mellowing out the rage she felt.

With more caution, she finished filing the last bit of the coil, leaving her with only one last segment to take care of; her 'hair.' The chitin covered most of the right side of her face before curling around her chest, terminating under her left arm.

As she began working her way down, she let her mind wander. Back when she had been human, her hair had been one of her better features. The corner of her mouth twitched into a half smile as she thought of the number of men she'd received compliments from.

As she traced the path of her hair, she encountered the other feature that had drawn attention. Rachael had always known she as well endowed and hadn't been particularly shy about living with it. While she had never had much of a serious relationship, she had flirted back with many men. It helped break the monotony of days.

Now she almost wished that life had been as boring as it had been back then.

She hadn't hated her job; on the contrary, she loved the fact that her work helped people. She had just never expected to get sent in on a mission like the one that had lead to her...She much preferred to work in the agency, doing internal work. It was thankless, but did good work. People like her were the reason the reason people on the ground had intel. Communication was key.

Her fist clenched as she thought of Lansdale, and this time she did nothing to curb her rage. The man had practically thrown her to the grinder. No, he had intentionally done so. With her out of the way, Raymond had been free to make his escape, no evidence left to track him. Luckily, things hadn't gone as planned, and he had been exposed anyway.

And he had come back. Rachael still didn't know what to think about her former partner. It wasn't like it mattered terribly at the moment. He was being held in prison for his actions, and was unlikely to get off for some time. Unless they needed him.

Rachael realized that in her thoughts, she had completely neglected to notice she had finished filing down her hair. Setting the file aside, she stood up, feeling the water run off her body in odd motions, encountering rough skin and growths.

Reaching over, she grabbed the last item in her personal kit: her lotion. She smiled slightly as she felt the bottle. Her unusual body design meant that sometimes her soap couldn't reach the crevices, which is where the lotion came in. Using both of her hands to grab it, she poured a bit into her human hand.

She began working down her right arm again, skipping the chitinous sections to focus on the flesh. Her slender fingers worked around each of the filed down growths. Gripping tightly, she was able to rub the lotion so that she could practically feel the slime coating her skin begin to lose adhesion.

Once she was satisfied with her work, she dunked the arm under. Letting the muscles go slack in her lower arm, she began jerking it about. Cleaning herself was one of the few times she couldn't compensate with her senses for her lack of eyes. She continued to thrash her arm around for a few minutes, before lifting it out of the water, hoping all the lotion had been washed off.

Rachael frowned as she began to tackle the problem of her other arm. This time, she poured the motion on her more vestigial hand, since the flesh was denser there. She'd tried using the more dextrous hand, but the fingers had been too thin to hold lotion.

Quickly, she slapped the flipper-like hand against her human arm. Twisting her muscles, she curled her dextrous hand backwards, pressing the other hand harder against her flesh. She smiled a little as she realized she was basically using her vestigial hand as a sponge.

Using the combination of her two hands, she quickly washed her other arm, but decided to prolong it. Something about the action was comforting. Despite the makeshift motion, it was almost like being human again. The flesh of her human arm was more receptive to touch than her monstrous one, and the feeling of running her hand over it was like using a slightly odd sponge.

If she had the need to, she would have closed her eyes. Instead, she just imagined her arm out in front of her. She would sit in the tub, running her petite hand over her pale flesh. Her hands would connect, and she would rub them together, feeling the smooth lotion between her hands. She would momentarily pause to admire the nail polish she had one that day before continuing.

Pressing both hands to her collarbones, she rubbed her shoulders, one hand feeling flesh, the other the chitinous cover. Sliding her hands downwards, she ran her hands over her breasts. With her human hand, she could feel the remains of a scar along the inside of her breast, and she knew there was one on the other side as well. Removing the ingrown clothing hadn't been...seamless. A V of scar tissue now ran down from her collarbones all the way to her pelvis.

Rachael had to carefully rub her hands over her breasts, as too much pressure would cause the flesh to roil, and the scars to tear. She frowned as she realized that her former pride in them had now given way to hatred at the inconvenience. Even worse, she could barely feel anything as she worked. She wasn't sure what all her mutation had done to her nerve endings, but with her increased resilience also brought less sensation. Even the pain she did feel was numbed, and she had to be extra careful when she felt anything, as she had no idea how serious it was. After all, she'd taken a shotgun to the face, and barely been affected.

Finally, she navigated her hands down towards her hips, finishing her wash in a hurry. Her mood had been fouled beyond repair, and she barely bothered to wash off the lotion as she stood up. She felt a mild headache coming on, and she moved to leave the tub only to reel from a sudden burst of pain.

Hissing, she stumbled backwards, hand shooting to her head. Her one exposed eye began to pulse painfully, and she moved her one good hand to it, hoping to feel what might be the problem.

Her fingers touched around the socket, hoping to find maybe something that had irritated it, but all she felt was water. Her hand slowed as she realized the water she was feeling was slightly different than what she had expected. It was...tears?

Drawing her hand away, she realized that she was crying. Even as it happened, she couldn't believe it. The same mutation that robbed her of her sight had caused most of the fixtures related to her eye to stop functioning.

Her head flashed in pain again, and she couldn't stop the automatic response. Her head split open, and she shrieked madly as her lamprey like mouth extended. The action brought momentary relief, but the sensory onslaught continued.

A moment before her reeling forced her under the water, she heard the door to her room opening, and heavy boots on the floor. She writhed under the water, causing it to froth in her violent jerking. Her mind faded into black as her baser instincts took over, lashing her claws in every direction.

Eventually the pain subsided and she settled down, feeling drained. Dimly, she could hear the water around her disturbed as people stepped in. She felt arms around her own, and she was dragged to a stand, supported between two broad people.

"Rachael, are you okay? What happened? We heard shrieking."

Through the fog that clouded her mind, Rachael recognized Manuela's voice. She tried to lift her head, only to be hit with nausea. Everything felt wavy.

Something in Rachael's mind brought forward the image of water, but she wasn't sure what. Then it brought the mental image of ceramic, and as her mind raced, she thought that she could almost see the tub in front of her.

It took her a moment to realize she could.

Instantly, Rachael's head snapped up, and her pale eye focused ahead of her, a hazy figure standing in front of her. Her senses told her that it was Manuela, but as her eye strained, she tried to focus the image.

Soon, the details became apparent, and Rachael found herself staring at a Hispanic woman. Slowly, Rachael looked about, he eye actually tracking with her motions. She was in her bathroom, and she could see the tub around her, scratch marks both old and new marring the surface. She was flanked to either side by some of the research assistants, holding her up.

As if confirming it for herself, Rachael slowly lifted her arms, looking at the limbs. Every inch of skin was just how she sensed it, but now she could see the darkened reds and blacks that covered them.

"Rachael?" Her head snapped back to the woman, eye focused on her face.

"Are you...Manuela?" she asked, uncertainty in her voice.

"It's me. Are you okay?"

"I...I can see you."


	5. Chapter 5

Extra 5

Compared to the facility, Ivy University was much more...lively. Most would have considered the gothic architecture and towering buildings a bit drab, but it felt significantly more open than the facility. Even the slight film of mist through the air was refreshing to experience in person, rather than as precipitation on a bulletproof window.

Adjusting the bag on her back, Sherry quickly moved up the steps of the courtyard, enjoying the sound of the grass beneath her shoes as she stepped onto the lawn. Around her, she could see various students her age heading to their classes. She noted with a hint of amusement that none of them were stepping on the grass.

Ignoring them, Sherry took a deep breath, relishing the cool air. Once again, things that so many others might even loathe she took great joy in. Absently, she reached into her pocket, sliding out the pill container in inside. Flicking out one of them, she quickly downed it, a smile still on her face. Nothing was going to ruin today, not even her meds. It helped that they had cleverly disguised it as a mint container.

Rolling back her sleeve, Sherry checked her watch. _My first class doesn't start for a few hours...what is there to do around here?_

Reaching back into her pocket, she pulled out a folded brochure. Smoothing it out, she looked at the campus map, looking for any major things she could do while she waited.

 _Lecture hall, football field, gym._ A gym. Sherry's grin widened as she mentally mapped out the route to the gym. Stuffing the brochure back in her pocket, she began heading on her way.

As she walked, she looked around at the old buildings. Ivy University had a reputation for being an old and rich school. Looking at the peaked roofs, she doubted that she would have been able to go here had life not turned out the way it had.

Idly, Sherry began to ponder where she would have ended up. Had she continued to live in Raccoon City, she might have gone to the local university. A small chuckle escaped her as the ruins flashed into her mind. On the raid, they had passed within visual distance of the university, and she remembered seeing the mostly destroyed ruins.

The buildings around her reminded her quite a bit of the hollowed shell she had seen. She could practically imagine herself being in Raccoon City. She wondered if she would have still met Leon and Manuela.

Her smile turned bitter as she realized that her father's business had control of the police department. No doubt Leon would have eventually stumbled across the wrong secret and been disposed of like so many others.

As for Manuela, she doubted the two would have ever crossed paths. Her father would have never let her go far, for fear of her being used against him. With the likes of Wesker and Spencer, there was no limit to the treachery they would commit. Her smile drooped as she realized that now, so many years after her father's death, the two people responsible for it were finally dead, but at terrible cost.

Sherry was snapped out of her thoughts as she reached the gym. Just beyond it, she could see the football field, the early morning mist rolling across it. She watched a few students circle about it, mindlessly headed to where they needed to go.

Sherry could only laugh as she entered into the air conditioned building. She doubted many kids her age would have the same view as her. She knew for certain that none of them had lived the life she had so far.

Looking around, Sherry was mildly disappointed by the gym. She noted the weightlifting machines, as well as some aerobics, but compared to the facility, this was nothing. It occurred to her that perhaps other gyms didn't have the same equipment. She began to realize, to her embarrassment, that she had mistakenly tried to compare her personal gym to this one. Still, the lack of a climbing wall or other obstacles could be overcome.

Silently, she took stock of the few people that were in the room. A few men were using the bench presses, and judging by their similar workout uniforms, she could only guess they were a team of some sort. A few more men were over on the treadmills, running alongside what seemed like another team of girls.

 _I should keep up my routine_. Walking towards the men, she spied that one of the bench presses was not in use. She turned to the nearest member. "Excuse me, is this one taken?"

The man turned to her with a smile, looking at the machine in question. "Oh, go ahead. We're not using it. You should ditch the coat though."

Sherry took a moment to process what he meant. "Oh sorry, it was a tad cold out."

Slipping off her coat, Sherry was glad that one of the habits being an agent had taught her was to wear clothes she was comfortable working in. And when work meant running and fighting a lot, she was sure it could stand a little workout. Underneath the coat, she wore a more civilian variant of her agent outfit; tight without being constricting. Setting her coat aside carefully, she lay down on the bench.

"You new here?" the man asked, keeping a respectful distance Sherry noted. The question seemed one of bored curiosity.

"Yeah. Just transferred in. You mind getting the pin for me?"

"Sure. Where do you want it?"

"Put it at about one hundred," Sherry replied, raising her hands to grip the handles. She waited a moment for the man to put in the pin, but realized he wasn't moving. "Is something wrong?"

"You sure about that? That's quite a bit of weight," he pointed out. Sherry glanced over, reading his face. As far as she could tell, he wasn't meaning to be insulting, just concerned. Sherry smiled confidently.

"I'll be fine. Go right ahead."

"Alright, but I hope you don't mind if I spot you, just in case." Sherry shook her head, allowing him to move closer. It wouldn't hurt to have someone there just in case, but she highly doubted that this would require that. The man put in the pin, adjusting his position to be ready to help should worse come to worse.

Sherry took a breath, focusing on her breathing for a moment. Once she was satisfied that she had her breathing pretty constant, she began lifting, easily moving the bar to the full height and back again with no effort. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the man's expression change to one of surprise as she continued easily lifting the weights.

"Can you add more? This is a bit light," Sherry asked politely. Turning her head to watch, she could see that a few of the other members of the team had turned to watch out of the corners of their eyes, and the conversation seemed to have died down a bit. Once the man added the extra weight, Sherry began lifting again.

The cycle continued for a while, and it wasn't until quite a few additions later that Sherry found a comfortable weight. She didn't bother to look at what it was as she began doing her reps, finally feeling the stress of working. By this time, the men had gathered around her, watching in borderline awe as she smoothly brought the weights up and down.

"How are you doing that?" one of them asked, which only prompted Sherry to smile. After a while, she decided to call it, having already met her quota. She would finish at home, where she could lift in peace. Sitting up, she glanced at the weight stack, smiling at the amount of weights she had lifted. Almost two hundred if she was reading correctly.

Grabbing her coat, she stepped out of the circle and began to walk off when one of the men spoke again. "Seriously, where did you learn to do that?"

Sherry turned with a mischievous smile. "Lots of practice. That, and good genetics."

* * *

Sherry had begun to lament the fact that she seemed to make a scene wherever she went. Her first class had been an introductory level virology course, and she made the mistake of showing up the other students.

It hadn't been intentional. Living under constant surveillance for viral stability meant she had learned a few things over time. She hadn't realized quite how much it had taught her. Some of the things she had heard were borderline insane. How did people not know about the genetics involved in viruses? With what she had heard, one would be excused for thinking viruses were some kind of evil miasma in the air that could be cured by drinking a bottle of cough syrup.

Now, Sherry was intentionally avoiding the students that seemed to want to talk with her about the course. She had accepted the first discussion, only to realize very quickly that the tone of the conversation was one of need. And so was the next conversation.

Admittedly, her other classes had been alright, considering she was no expert in them, but somehow it seemed that she couldn't escape attention. A group of girls had come to compliment her coat, and while she had at first been flattered, she had realized that they were part of the social crowd.

She didn't have anything against the social crowd, but she was definitely uncomfortable with the idea of being in highly erratic social situations like parties. Given her condition, she doubted that was even an option. Still, she had been polite enough in her excuses, and she'd managed to get out of there without ruffled feathers.

That was when she had been jumped by some of the sports teams. Seems word had gotten out about her feat of strength, and suddenly everyone was looking at her. While she liked the idea of playing a sport, she knew that she couldn't. Occasional practices were all well and good, but if she were to actually compete, she would get more excited. Adrenaline, combined with the amount of stress her body would go through in competitive sports, would not pair well with her virus.

So she had turned them down as well.

Now, she was hidden away in the library, a government issued laptop on the table in front of her. Luckily, it seemed almost no one was in the library this early in the year.

A stray thought came to Sherry as she distracted herself in her work. For all the situations she had been in that day, she had known exactly what was going on. It had seemed to her like people's minds and personalities had been laid open before her.

A bitter smile came to her face as she realized why. Besides her physical training, they had also trained her in numerous other things, one being social cues. She had never thought much about it before, but seeing it now, she realized that her life was so very different from everyone around her.

Everything seemed almost mechanical. After the chaos and fear she had experienced in training and in Raccoon City, nothing seemed like it could compare. When she worked with her team, they were _a team_ , all working on the same objective. Communication was simple and concise, without the intricacies of every day routines.

Sherry smiled as she thought of the one thing she did have: perspective. Compared to the field, being on the campus was refreshing and relaxing. The environments others took for granted were like a holiday for her. Where some people would complain about getting their clothes dirty on a rainy day, Sherry was happy that she could walk down the street and not get eaten alive.

Closing her laptop, she decided it would perhaps be worth it to try something social. At the minimum, it would give her a chance to work off the energy that had been building up all day.

* * *

The ball slammed into the ground, bouncing off to the left of where Sherry had been standing. From the moment her opponent hit it with her racket, Sherry had begun to move to intercept it. Following it with her eyes was a trivial matter, and her body was well able to keep up with her mind.

Her opponent on the other hand was visibly haggard. The girl's brown hair was mussy, having come somewhat loose of the band holding it back in her efforts. Her chest rose and fell with her breaths, and Sherry noticed a slight shaking in her legs as she moved; a sign of the adrenaline.

Swinging her racket, Sherry didn't even bother to watch as the ball went sailing to the corner of the court, bouncing well out of reach. Instead, she stood taller, stretching out her back. While she had been able to keep up speed, she knew it was important to keep her muscles loose. Tension would do her no good.

Sherry cracked an eye as she heard her opponent curse on missing the ball, causing her loss. For a moment, Sherry regarded her opponent, who was leaned over, hands on her knees. "You alright?"

"Yeah...good game," the other girl returned breathlessly. Sherry regarded her with concern as she stood to her full height, walking off the court to take a seat. She motioned for Sherry to join her. "You were good."

"Practice," Sherry responded simply. For a moment, she contemplated sitting down, but she thought better of it. It would only cause her muscles harm to let them stop instead of slowing down. Instead, she elected to do some stretches.

The girl nodded in acknowledgement. "Must have practiced a hell of a lot! I haven't had that one sided of a match in a while."

Sherry laughed at the idea. All the times she had played with Manuela came to mind. While Sherry had the physical advantage, Manuela's reaction times were beyond anything she could hope to compare with. "I'm still practicing."

"Have you considered joining the team? You-"

"Thanks, but I'm really not looking to join any teams. I can't really be here enough to be part of a team."

"Ah, you live off campus?"

"Something like that," Sherry replied enigmatically. "Thanks for the offer though. I appreciate it."

"Part of the job. You're welcome to stop by so long as it's not official practice times." Sherry nodded her thanks before returning the racket to the rack she had retrieved it from. Waving goodbye, she slipped out of the court, pausing momentarily to reorient herself. Her escort would be waiting for her in the parking garage under the venue building.

Smiling to herself, Sherry realized that one wouldn't have even been able to tell she had been playing tennis. Her clothes were still as pristine as she'd shown up in, having not even pushed her body close to the limit.

Skipping back up the steps, Sherry once again found herself in the central courtyard. All around, she could see other students milling about, headed off in their various purposes. _I should check out some of the local venues at some point._

As Sherry began heading down the ramp, she heard the clock ring out. The sound made her pause, a faint memory coming to her. Closing her eyes, she tried to focus on it.

 _She was in a plaza, holding someone's hand. A faint feeling of happiness was associated with it, and she slowly got the impression it was her mother. As she looked up, the sun behind her blurred the woman's features, but she could still recognize the outline of her mother's dark blonde bob. There was a clock tower looming over them, shadowing the rest of the plaza._

 _Someone else held her other hand, and if she had to guess, it was likely her father. For a moment, Sherry was filled with rage, but calmed as she realized the memory was from before her father had become consumed by his work. Her younger self looked up to him, and she could see his face more clearly, and she felt her heart drop as she saw the proud, smiling expression he wore._

 _She remembered looking up at the clock tower, and being in awe of its size. She was about to tell her mother as much when it rang out. She could practically feel her little body shaking with excitement at the loud and amazing sound. Looking up at her parents with wondrous eyes, she could see the smiles they wore. Her father began to speak…_

...and that's where it ended. Sherry shook her head as the moment faded, along with the ringing of the tower. Since the last mission, she had been thinking more and more about her family. She wanted so much to just hate them, but after what Leon had told her, she could no longer hold onto that feeling.

Stepping down into the darkened parking garage, she spotted her ride immediately. The car itself was fairly non-descript, as per standard, but it was the only one with occupants. As Sherry approached, a man stepped out of the passenger's side, circling around.

"How was your day?" he asked as he opened the door. Sherry smiled her thanks as she slipped in. For a moment, she felt like a rich girl, getting escorted in a limousine. Except the limousine was smaller and far more mundane, not to mention heavily reinforced.

"It was...okay. I'll just be glad to get back to base." Sherry couldn't help but chuckle at the strangeness of the statement. All of her fellow students would head to some home to be with their loved ones, or crash in a dorm. She, instead, was headed back to a government sponsored base. A fairly heavily guarded one at that.

It didn't take too long to return to the base, and Sherry felt a strange sense of relief come over her as she stepped out of the car into the underground parking garage. Taking a deep breath, she felt the sterilized air enter her lungs. Quickly, she signed herself back on site before rushing upstairs, shouting a thank you to her escorts over her shoulder.

Heading to the back of the facility, Sherry found her way to the main living space, connecting the various wings and sub-facilities. In moments, she spotted Leon waiting impatiently on the couch, along with Manuela. Manuela's head twitched and she spun around, spotting Sherry.

"Welcome back. How was your day?" Manuela hurried over, hugging Sherry tightly. Leon followed behind, a small smile on his face.

"It was alright. Nothing special, you know?" Looking around, Sherry noted that they were one member short. "Where's Rachael?"

"She went for a swim. The waiting was making her anxious. I'll go get her." Manuela hugged Sherry once more before heading off towards the pool, disappearing around the corner. A moment of silence hung between Leon and Sherry as they watched her leave.

"She was hoping to hear a bit about your day," Leon explained.

"I wish she could go out more," Sherry lamented, thinking of how elated she had felt her first day out. Even now, she felt she would never be able to take that freedom for granted.

"She's just happy that there are people that accept her. Still, with her improving condition, she should be able to see some leniency soon. Not the same as us, but maybe enough to get a trip to some secure location."

Sherry nodded, something about the idea still sitting ill at ease with her. She sighed as she spoke. "Leon...do you think they will ever stop keeping tabs on us?"

"Even before I met Manuela, I was watched. It's part of being an agent. I don't think we'll ever not be watched, but I know someday you'll be able to live your life without having to clear every moment with someone. For the most part. You still have to check in with the people upstairs if you go abroad though. Don't want any insurgencies or anything like that."

Sherry listened in silence as Leon spoke. She had never considered that his life had been like this before they had entered it. While she wasn't exactly pleased to know he'd been living with it before, it relieved her somewhat to know they weren't causing him too much extra trouble. Her thoughts were interrupted as Leon continued speaking.

"For the moment though, we're all we've got. Was there anything interesting that happened today?" Leon's tone of voice told Sherry that she had to name at least one thing.

"I got to show off my strength a bit today," Sherry offered.

"I would tell Rachael that. She could use a bit of living vicariously." Sherry was about to speak, but Manuela and Rachael came around the corner, the latter still a bit wet from her soak.

The two approached and Sherry had to tilt her vision upwards to meet Rachael's. The single pale eye focused on her was a new development, but she wasn't going to let a little thing like that throw her.

"Hello," Rachael greeted shortly. Sherry was used to the older woman's terseness.

"Hey Rachael. Enjoy your swim?"

"It was pleasant. How was your day?" Even with such a short statement, her voice wavered a little and threatened to screech as she reached the end. Sherry ignored it and smiled, motioning for them to move towards the couches.

"It was great! To start with…"


	6. Chapter 6

Extra 6

Today was a day off, and Sherry was taking full advantage of it. Her day had started off well, as her daily well check revealed that she was in top shape. In addition to being a weekend, Sherry had planned ahead; today she could go without her harness, having worn it the rest of the week.

Sitting back on the couch, she took in the atmosphere. The living room of the facility was spacious, with a slightly submerged middle area settled around a wide TV. The couches were all coated with materials that could suit Rachael's skin, but that didn't bother Sherry.

Kicking up her feet on the central table, she had shrugged off her coats and longer wardrobe in favour of a white tanktop and shorts. The large windows overhead allowed the rare day of sunlight in. Happily, Sherry wiggled her barren feet, enjoying the warmth.

Taking another sip of her water, she picked up the remote from beside her, adjusting the large device in her hand. Still shaking off her sleepiness, she tapped one of the oversized buttons to bring up the news channel.

Idly, she pulled out her phone, bringing up a more specific vein of searching while the weather forecast played. She noted that the next few days would be nice. _Maybe we can hang out in the garden or something_.

 _BSAA news_. With a tap of the Enter key, Sherry watched as links came up. She parsed through them quickly, mentally dismissing the ones she had already seen. _Judging from the headlines, not much has happened recently. Business and revenue stuff_.

Sherry glanced up at the TV for a moment, tuning in as the world news came on. A female reporter was stood outside what seemed to be a capitol building. "Tensions in the Eastern Slav Republic have begun to drop as communications open up here in Holigrad. President Svetlana Belikova has promised a more lenient stance on the rebel forces. While some say this was prompted by attacks…"

As quickly as she tuned in, Sherry drowned the noise out. She didn't know all that much about the Eastern Slav Republic, but so long as there wasn't any bioterrorism reports, she wasn't going to have to be sent in. She did worry about Leon though; as an agent, his jurisdiction did also encompass foreign ops, though he hadn't been asked on one in a while due to his new comrades.

Erasing her previous search, Sherry paused to down another drink of water, polishing it off. Mentally, she made a note to scratch it off on her checklist before typing in a new search. _TerraSave news_.

The web had a little more information on their operations. _TerraSave extends help to Kijuju in wake of war._ Sherry frowned as she read the headlines. It seemed like the region had suffered from a wave of dictators clashing over territory. A few of them had tried to use bio-weapons to gain an advantage, but between BSAA responses and TerraSave, it was mostly controlled.

Sherry had just begun to think of calling Claire when the news switched to another topic. Glancing up, Sherry looked back down at her phone for a moment before bolting up in her seat. Reading the headline closer, her eye widened.

 _Residents of Missouri give thanks to members of assault on biohazard zone._

"Here in Springfield, people have organized an impromptu parade celebrating the cleansing of the ruins of Raccoon City," a man reported, standing on the sidewalk as people walked by, celebrating in different fashions. The camera panned a little, showing people throwing confetti, and waving American flags. A few people carried signs, all emblazoned with messages of support.

"Representative Graham released the official report of the ruin's destruction this past Sunday after pressing to have the operation made public. In the almost week that has passed, people have been celebrating the event. Raccoon City was destroyed back in 1998 after the first mass scale infection by the t-virus, a powerful biological weapon designed by the Umbrella Corporation."

"For the eight years it has existed since then, it has been an icon of terror and concern for citizens here, but following a successful assault on it this past month, it has been deemed cleared out. While reclamation is yet to start, this is enough reason to celebrate."

The camera swapped out to the man standing beside a woman, who was clearly ecstatic. "What are your thoughts right now?"

"I can't believe it! I just can't believe it! As soon as I heard the news, I called everyone I knew!"

Once again the camera changed, and Sherry could recognize the man now being interviewed. It was the Missouri Senator, Senator Abbot. Sherry had briefly met him during a press conference on the first day of the program started by Ashley. He was a younger senator, edging on the lean side.

"What does this mean for the state?" asked the reporter.

"Well, first, we'll be able to reopen a lot of the roads that run near the former site after performing maintenance. Over the next view years, we hope to begin reclaiming the land, and converting it back into usable property. This will help the economy immensely, giving job opportunities as well as room for new business. With all those aside, it provides a massive boost in morale to know that it is gone."

"We understand that there has been a proposal to make its destruction a state holiday. Is there anything to these claims?"

"There has been a motion carried, and most everyone is behind the measure. While the name is still pending, early supporters seem to lean towards 'Raccoon City Remembrance Day.'"

The screen split in two, showing the head anchorman along with the first man in their own panels. The man in Springfield spoke first. "So as you can see here, people are over the moon. I have also been told that a number of parades are being held in other states as a motion of solidarity."

"Not only that, but the President himself will be making a speech about the operation tomorrow. Make sure to tune in tomorrow to hear…"

Sherry stopped listening as the news continued onwards before coming to her wits, snatching her phone. Quickly, she began typing away. Results poured in and she clicked link after link, reading people posting article after article about their support for the agents and soldiers who risked their lives to bring it to an end.

Finally, an article caught her eye more so than the others. _Residents of Branston erect monument to soldiers involved in destruction of Raccoon City._ Reading the article, Sherry smiled as she saw familiar names getting recognized. Commander Ryman was featured prominently, along with all his men.

As Sherry read the list, she stopped in shock as she saw her team's names on the monument as well. Zooming in, Sherry blinked in disbelief, a feeling of pride rising in her chest. She read quicker, slowing down as it described an interview with some of the residents.

"We just couldn't believe it. Raccoon City was just down the road for us, and we used to have to drive all the way around it and pass through military checkpoints just to get to Springfield. Now we're able to drive straight down the road and it's all thanks to them."

"I read what went down in the news and I can't imagine how brave the people who went in had to be. The news mentioned that some of them were those special 'infected' soldiers. I wasn't sure about them before, but they really helped us here. If they're reading this, thank you so much!"

As Sherry read more articles, she found much of the same thing, with people giving praise and thanks. Sherry almost broke out into laughter when she saw a picture of several girls trying to imitate her style, wearing similar white coats. She had completely forgotten she had worn it to the press conference, but it had apparently caught on.

 _I'm a public figure_ , Sherry realized numbly, a broad grin spreading across her face. Clutching her phone, she jumped up from the couch.

"Leon! Leon!"

* * *

A much shorter extra than usual, but I think was a pretty cute one. Note that I did go with the theory that Raccoon City was in Missouri, somewhere around the southwest corner of the state. After the last one focusing on Sherry, I thought this would be a much nicer one, showing off a more childish side.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note/Disclaimer: Please realize that this chapter contains mature content, particularly of the intimate variety. None of the events of this chapter will matter much in terms of plot, so please feel free to skip with no consequence.**

Extra 7

As much as Leon appreciated the lengths they went to make the facility more comfortable, he could never compare it to the comfort of his own home. Whenever he came home, it was nice to be able to return to the small house and hang his coat up, even if it did have a few more stitches in it than when he started.

Now he felt a little self-conscious about it, having brought a guest home.

Stepping inside the door, he felt bad for not having returned home to take care of things beforehand. The decision for Manuela to come along had been a last minute one that he had accepted hastily.

"Go ahead and make yourself comfortable, I just need to clean up a bit," Leon invited, motioning over to the table near the kitchen. He walked passed the table, circling around the couch to straighten the cushions, picking up a magazine as he did so.

"Here, let me help. It'll go faster." Leon nodded his thanks, grabbing a blanket and beginning to fold it.

"Nice collection of books." Leon glanced over his shoulder to see Manuela standing in front of his bookshelf, holding a book he must have left aside in her hands.

"Which one is that?"

"It's an animal encyclopedia."

"Put it with the others. Bottom shelf."

"I didn't realize you read about animals that much," Manuela observed, running her hand along the spines of the books.

"Well, after Raccoon City, I figured it might be a good idea to have some idea of what they might cook up next," Leon explained, shifting the table slightly to align with the furniture.

"We had a large library at the mansion back home. I used to read through it all the time. That and peruse the garden," Manuela amended, spying a row of plants in Leon's window. She smiled as she recognized the familiar green and red fronds. "I see you decided to grow some?"

"Well, with the two of us working together, I didn't use all of them. I figured I might as well try to grow them. They're not quite as impressive as your garden, but hey, I try," Leon laughed, walking over. Reaching out, he gently touched one of the leaves, eying it keenly. "They're a bit dry. I should probably water them."

"Mind if I do it?"

"Go right ahead. The glasses are above the sink." Kneeling to get a better look, Leon tilted the leaves slightly, looking at them through the light. Taking a knife from his belt, he gently tested the buds, finding the newest one. Slowly, he cut the segment he needed off before resheathing his knife. Manuela returned, glancing over his shoulder in curiosity.

"Whatcha doing?"

"Harvesting a bit for tea. I used to just dust my food with the stuff, but that got a bit boring, so I decided to try and find some other way. I find that the herbs stay in my system for a lot longer this way. I've got some already prepared if you want."

"That sounds lovely," Manuela smiled, gently tilting the leaves up with her fingers to pour the water at the root. It was a procedure he had seen her do many times in her greenhouse at home, to each and every single plant. Sliding up behind her, he gently wrapped an arm around her waist, hugging her for a moment.

"I should probably move them to the greenhouse. They'd get constant attention there," Leon half-joked.

"And make your place less green? I couldn't," Manuela retorted, turning to smile at him. Leon shook his head with a laugh, letting go to stow his harvest. Carefully, he deposited the green cuttings into a container, making a note to prepare them in the morning.

"What do you feel like for dinner?" Leon called over the counter, closing the cabinet. Manuela tilted her head back in thought before giving a shrug. With a half-hearted sigh, Leon opened the fridge, checking what he had on hand. Pulling out a few things, he began to piece together an idea of what he could make. "How do you feel about tacos? I doubt they'll be that good-"

"That would be nice. Would you like help?"

"Sure. Let me just get the stuff out. Do you want anything in particular on them?" Leon turned, startling as Manuela stood over him. A small smile was on her face as she placed her hand on the top of the fridge.

"Do you mind if I take over?"

Leon stepped aside, letting her have access. "By all means. I'm not a cook."

Watching for a moment as Manuela took out the ingredients, Leon contemplated what he could do while he waited. "I'm going to straighten a few things up. I hope you don't mind."

Manuela waved off his concern, focusing on her work. Leon slipped out of the kitchen, heading down the hall. Passing his spare bedroom, he glanced into the office space.

There was a mess on every surface, courtesy of his work. Cleaning it would be hopeless. Instead, he slowly brought the door to, making a note that he would have to clean it later. Turning around, he stepped into the bathroom. Things were less chaotic, he noticed with a grateful sigh. Straightening a few loose items, he spent a moment trying to think of anything else he might need to do before drawing a blank.

For a moment, Leon had to pause to realize his situation. It all seemed so familiar, and yet he couldn't point out when the last time he'd done anything like this. Whenever he did come home, it was always to get some personal effect, or to get away from the brass for a while. The place hadn't been cleaned for company in all the time he'd had it.

Suddenly, the memory became clearer. The last time he had done anything like this was before Raccoon City, with his old girlfriend. The first time she had come to his place, he had cleaned it spotless, trying to make a good impression. While it had been nice, things hadn't worked out.

Now, he had absently invited Manuela over. There had been no preparation, no planning, just spontaneity. And it felt right. When he had first met with his girlfriend in his home, it had been awkward, and a little forced. With Manuela though, they had just slid right into it.

Returning to the kitchen, Leon leaned against the counter, watching Manuela work. While neither of them were excellent cooks, she knew ever so slightly more than him, and he enjoyed watching her work. The only thing he enjoyed more was watching her fight.

"What are you looking at?" Leon startled as Manuela spoke, looking at him with concern.

"Nothing. Just thinking. Whatcha cooking there? Secret recipe?"

"Fajitas. Ever had them?"

"Once, but I never knew how to make them."

"If you have taco makings, you have the ingredients for fajitas," Manuela explained, tilting the pan so Leon could see. "Here, let me show you."

* * *

Leon leaned back with satisfaction, letting the pleasant sensation of a good meal enfuse his body. "That was an excellent meal."

"You did most of the cooking," Manuela countered. "I just got you started. Besides, you managed just fine after that. You were very good with your hands."

"It's from long hours looking down a gun sight. Compared to using a sniper rifle, holding a pan steady is far easier. Especially since the ingredients move less." Leon chuckled as he glanced around, spotting the clock. "I suppose I should show you your bedroom."

Leon lead Manuela through the hallway, opening the door to the spare room. "I haven't actually used this room at all, so it should be pretty clean. Let's see if I have anything you can sleep in."

Opening the door to his room, Leon opened up his shirt drawer. Pulling a few out, he eventually found a fairly loose, white shirt, handing it over his shoulder. Drawing out a few more, he laid them on top of the dresser.

"If that one doesn't fit-" Leon was stunned as he turned, surprised to see Manuela taking her shirt off.

Leon couldn't help but admire Manuela. Dropping the her shirt, Leon could see the tanned skin underneath. Manuela spent so much time in her uniform that Leon had trouble imagining her without it. He knew just how strong she was, but looking now he could see the lean muscle running down the length of her body, giving her a defined look. Her black sports bra just served to highlight her body shape and tone.

What caught his eye the most was her arm once again. Not only was she more muscled, but her scar had evolved over time. Leon looked in awe, surprised at the change. It had been a long time since he had last seen it. Where there had once been light discolouration and warped flesh, there was now a dark green tone combined with defined, almost scaly lines. The more he looked, the more the lines resembled snakes, intertwining up Manuela's arm.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"It's alright. I don't mind if you see," Manuela interrupted, smiling gently, stepping closer. "Do you want to look?"

Leon noted the slightly mischievous smile on her face, but silently accepted the offer. Tenderly, he put his hand on her wrist, slowly lifting the limb. His fingers ran slowly along her forearm, pausing just before the discolouration started. Cautiously, he crossed the border, feeling the sudden change in texture. As his fingertips moved along, he felt small catches against his skin, and his eyes widened as he realized the texture was caused by actual scales, though very small and tight to the point of looking like normal skin.

Remembering something about touching with the grain, he lifted his hand to Manuela's shoulder, slowly moving his hand along the skin. His thumb ran over the raised patterns in her skin, rolling and twisting like actual snakes. Manuela hummed gently as he did, snaking her other hand up his chest.

Leon dragged his eyes away from her arm, snapping up to her face. Manuela's arm turned in his hand, gripping his elbow gently. Manuela tugged on his arm, bringing him down for a kiss. Lightly, Leon could feel Manuela's fingertips sliding up under his shirt; an act he didn't try to stop.

As Manuela's hands ventured upwards, he could feel her tracing the lines of his body. Her fingers stopped however, running over a spot on his side a few times and she broke away, looking up at him in confusion. Before he knew what was happening, Manuela had forced his shirt up to his armpits.

Leon lifted it the rest of the way so he could see what was happening better. Manuela's gaze was fixed on his side, where she traced the faded remains of a scar. As her eyes trailed upwards, they snagged on each little spot of old damage. The worst was the series of crisscrossing ones across his solar plexus; a reminder of the parasite that had once clutched his spine.

"I had no idea…" Manuela muttered, astounded. Her fingers applied pressure on his side, urging him to turn around. Leon obliged, though he turned his head to watch her as she ran her fingers up his back, causing him to shiver.

"It comes with the job," Leon said with a shrug, turning back around to face Manuela. "Besides, you have some as well."

Manuela nodded in concession, silently continuing to look at his scars. As she traced the scars, Leon could feel her fingernails gliding across his skin, and with each pass, they seemed to apply more pressure until he was certain it wasn't accidental.

Sliding his arms around Manuela's hips, Leon rushed forward, catching Manuela's lips again by surprise. She only froze for a moment, before returning the motion in kind, pushing him back with her own intensity.

Leon managed to pull away from the kiss, working his way down the right side of her neck. Gently, he put a hand to the back of her head, urging her to tilt away from him. As she did so, the musculature of her neck became more apparent, and Leon kissed along towards the shoulder.

Letting go of her head, Leon continued down her arm. Carefully, Leon followed her arm down until the mutation started. Lightly, he began kissing the region, following the tendril-like ridges along. He could hear Manuela's voice hitch every now and again as he did his work. He never stayed in one spot too long, always making sure to only apply the lightest of pressure. The last thing they needed was Manuela's blood vessels bursting from a hickey, and the last thing Leon wanted was a face full of fire.

Reaching the end of the mutated section, Leon let go of her skin, sliding his hand to hers, lifting it to press a kiss to the back of it with a smile. Manuela returned it before gently pushing him backwards. When his legs hit the bed, she gently pushed him backwards. "Lie down."

Leon obeyed her command, sitting down before transitioning to his back. Manuela slid onto the bed beside him, using one arm to lean over him. She smiled down at him before leaning in for a tender and short kiss. The one kiss led to a trail down the left side of his face to his jaw. Leon jerked in surprise when Manuela lightly nipped his jaw, giggling to herself at his reaction. Continuing down his neck, she barely lifted her lips in between kisses, her warm breath running over his skin.

Soon, she reached the mark on his neck from where he had only barely managed to repel an attack by a Ganado with a chainsaw. He expected her to go passed it, but to his surprise she locked her lips around it. Leon twitched beneath her as she sucked gently, but couldn't help the larger spasm as she ran her tongue along it. Letting go, she rose up for a moment, the mischievous smile no longer hidden on her face.

Leon would have been lying if he had said that Manuela wasn't beautiful, but he found that quality amplified whenever she gained her confidence. Most of the time, they were too busy being attacked for him to appreciate it, but in the moment, he could enjoy it in all its glory.

Having given him a reprieve, Manuela once again lowered her mouth to his skin, touching down on his collarbone. Starting at the middle, she moved slowly along the bone, occasionally rising above or dipping below. At the same time, Leon's hands were on Manuela's lower back, occasionally squeezing as she found a particular spot or nerve.

After reaching the end of the bone, Manuela rose up, looking down at Leon. Her expression was unreadable, though Leon sensed she was debating something. Leon waited patiently as she thought. Eventually, she seemed to reach a conclusion, shifting to sit on Leon's hip. Leaning forward slightly, he felt her apply pressure with her legs to balance herself as she grabbed Leon's hands, guiding them up her back. Going up her spine, she eventually stopped when Leon's fingers had reached her bra. Letting go, she looked down at Leon, trusting him to do the rest.

Leon didn't need to be told what to do as he undid the clasp easily. His fingers slid up along the straps to her shoulders as the cups fell away slightly, no longer secured to her body. Gently teasing the straps off her shoulders towards her arms, Manuela crossed her arms, protecting her breasts for just a moment longer while he worked the bra off. With the clothing removed, he tossed it aside before gently setting his hands on Manuela's forearms.

Pulling them aside, he could only marvel in silent appreciation at the view before him. A youth spent in Central America had given Manuela's torso a beautiful tanned colour. What he found even more impressive was the amazing uniformity of the colour. Unlike many of the women he'd known in the US, she had almost no tan lines, save for the barest hints along her neck and wrists. The darker skin tone was even consistent throughout her breasts, though the colour did lighten a bit near her nipples as the skin got further away from her body.

Leon followed the curve of her rib with one hand before sliding it upwards. He slowed considerably as he approached her breast. His first touch was running his fingertips along the side of it, while curving his thumb under the bottom. While Manuela wasn't amazingly endowed, the muscles underneath lifted the breasts up and out slightly, and he wasn't surprised to find that her virus given resilience had also firmed her breasts slightly.

He could only watch with blatant awe as they moved clearly with each breathe, the tight connections of muscle, bone, and hardened skin all work in unison. Manuela's hands on his arms squeezed tightly as he moved his other hand up, exploring the sides of her breasts. Looking up, he could see Manuela had closed her eyes, simply enjoying the feeling. Taking advantage of the moment, he decided to repay her for all the surprises she had pulled against him.

Curving his fingers, he ran his nails down the sides of her breasts, before hooking them underneath and slowly running them along the bottom curve before letting go. Manuela gasped in surprise, jolting reflexively. He could see her face turn red and she shivered slightly at the sensation. Refocusing her eyes, she looked down at Leon, a small smile curving onto her lips.

"That's cheating," she accused.

"I thought this was no holds barred," Leon retorted lightly. Manuela didn't have time to respond as Leon gripped her shoulders, flipping to his left. In a moment, they had reversed positions, with Leon having captured Manuela underneath him.

"No fair-!" Manuela's voice caught in a gasp as Leon ran his fingers down her side, teasing the side of her breast and the exposed portion of her hip. He chuckled lightly as he felt her involuntary jerk.

Leaning down, they locked lips again, more passionate than before. Leon took the initiative, shifting his focus to her lower lip. Manuela took a moment to figure out what he was conveying, but soon parted her lips. Leon could feel her tongue tentatively snake passed his lips, and he met her with gentleness. They had never been this intimate before, and he wanted to enjoy it, but knew she had to control the pace.

Breaking away, he smiled down at Manuela, who was now a distinctly red tone. Leon's hand curved around her back, and he could feel both her heartbeat, as well as her body heat. Now that he noticed, she was actually amazingly warm.

"Do you need a break?" Leon asked quietly.

"No. It feels good," Manuela assured him. Leon nodded, lowering his face to her neck. While he did plant a few kisses, his pace moved much faster down passed her collarbone. Soon, the flesh began to give way more as he began to rise along the curve of her breast. While he used one hand to gently lift her towards him, his other hand slowly raked up from her hip.

Leon resisted the urge to smile as he arced around her nipple, feeling her writhe with anticipation. Lifting for a breath, he allowed it to wash over her breast, and he could see the skin react to the sensation. Visibly tightening, he could see the small, almost-goosebumps form across the surface. Exhaling, he could feel Manuela's back arch, trying to get closer to the source.

With his off-hand, Leon cupped Manuela's breast, gently squeezing. When her breath hitched, he released pressure, repeating the motion until he was sure of the tolerance. He felt one of Manuela's hands snake up his back, weaving into his hair. As soon as he felt the pressure, he knew what she wanted.

Lowering his mouth down, he took the peak of her breast into his mouth. At first, he simply ran his lips over the surface, but soon he began to apply a little more pressure. Still, he was careful, only ever lightly suckling the skin. Meanwhile, he had begun to squeeze Manuela's other breast in waves, starting at the base and working his way up.

In response, Manuela's gasps and breaths had become full on moaning, and the hand that wasn't securing Leon to her was clutching his back. Lightly, he pressed her nipple against his teeth, applying only the lightest of pressure. Even that was enough to cause a reaction as Manuela's head jerked up, her fingers practically clawing into his head. Leon could feel the restraint as she avoided crushing his skull.

"Okay...maybe a small break," she whispered breathlessly. "Just..give me a sec."

Leon nodded, pulling away, though he leaned beside her, keeping close. Manuela stared into the middle distance, focusing on her breathing while flexing her fingers. After a moment, she seemed to regain focus.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yeah. Don't worry. You okay?" Manuela nodded, propping herself on an elbow. "Do you want to continue?"

Manuela didn't say anything as she gently placed a hand on the side of Leon's face, tilting up to kiss him. The two shared a gentle kiss before separating. Manuela gently used her hand to guide him back over her. Looking up at him, she slowly ran her hands from his shoulders to his chest, once again inspecting the mosaic of old wounds.

However, her hands dipped further than they had before, reaching the top of his pants. Her hands shook a little as she followed the band towards the buckle, and she seemed to be indecisive. Leon gently reached down and grabbed her hand, pulling it between their faces before leaning in to kiss her again.

Manuela parted her lips, and the two passionately fought for a moment before Leon pulled away. He started to roll to the side, but Manuela's other hand gripped his belt, preventing his escape. Letting go of his hand, Manuela brought it down, dexterously undoing his belt. It took her a bit more time to get the button and zipper undone simply due to the angle, but once she did, they were practically torn from his body.

Before she could go any further, Leon traced a fingernail down Manuela's side, before switching to follow the curve of her hip until it met the pantsline. Looking at Manuela, he softly put his fingers over the button, waiting for her response. The silent nod and gasping breath was all he needed.

Undoing the button, he had an easier time removing her pants with his superior leverage, though she kicked them off near the end. Leon smiled appreciatively as she lay below him in nothing but her black panties. Leaning in close, he kissed the side of her neck, pressing their bodies together. Inhaling deeply, he took in her scent.

Aside from the light feeling of heat from being close to her, he felt wrapped in a vague hint of greenery. It reminded him of the jungle rivers, with a sort of crisp, clear feeling to it. Over top that, he thought he could almost smell flowers in bloom, wonderful and yet not overpowering. Whatever it was, he loved it. He loved her.

Lightly playing with her neck, he slid his hand down her other side, stopping at her hip for a moment to gently squeeze a couple of times. Manuela moaned and bucked as he played with her hyper sensitive nerves, diving lower and lower as he followed the line between her hips and her legs.

The sheer heat of her body was almost absurd, and Leon had no doubt it was due to her racing heart. Exercising caution, he slowed down, stopping midway down the joint, slowly raking his nails along in a rhythm. Manuela's hips jerked urgently, but as she realized what he was doing, she began to calm.

Leon let go of her neck, adjusting so they were eye to eye before touching his forehead to hers. Manuela's breaths hitched a little, but with each one it was less. Both of her hands were on Leon's shoulders, and as slipped his fingertips under her panties, she closed her eyes, focusing on her breathing.

As his hand slid over her smooth skin, Leon's other hand went to Manuela's, who grasped it tightly. Reaching the precipice, he gave her a moment to catch herself. Slowing her breathing, she finally opened her eyes, looking into Leon's own. She nodded almost imperceptibly, squeezing tighter.

Leon was gentle as he curved his fingers between her legs. Manuela's voice came out in a low moan as he slowly moved his hand up and down. Ever so slowly, he ran the tip of his digit a little deeper, and Manuela yielded herself easily to him. It felt so right and natural that Leon's every minstration was met perfectly with just the reaction he desired.

Finally, Leon eased deeper and Manuela inhaled slowly, her eyes going wide. When Leon halted, she exhaled happily, pressing a kiss to the side of his face. Wrapping her arms about his shoulder, her lips hovered close to his ear, and her breathy voice escaped with each motion. Slowly and passionately, she kissed along the side of his face, her breath washing over him pleasantly.

Soon enough, one of her hands began to slide down his chest, much faster and more focused than before. Dipping below the hem of his underwear, he felt her delicate fingers run along his pelvis before pressing down, causing the fabric to move down and away. Leon gently removed his finger, causing her to pause for a moment with a gasp, before reaching back to remove his underwear.

At the same time, Manuela lifted her legs together, using the space created by Leon's motion. Gripping either side of her panties, she slowly removed them, flicking them aside with her foot. She parted her legs, sliding them to either side of Leon. Setting one arm down, she leaned up towards him while gently pushing him with her other hand. Leon took the cue rolling onto his back.

Leon took a moment to take in the sensation of the moment. His back was on the bed, with the covers slightly engulfing the pair while Manuela lay on his front, almost entirely flush with him. Her face was mere inches from his, and their breaths mingled together. He bridged the gap, kissing her deeply. One of her hands curled into his, and his off-hand worked its way into her hair. He felt her other hand snake down his pelvis, taking charge. Her hips rose away from his for a moment, but her lips never parted from his. Even as she slowly eased backwards, she never let go, and he squeezed her hand firmly as she once more became flush with him.

As Manuela's hips settled onto his, he could hear her inhale deeply from pleasure, her heart beating against his chest. They lay together for a moment, and Leon closed his eyes, enjoying the sound and feeling of Manuela's breathing.

Leon couldn't help but gasp as Manuela rocked her hips forward. Underneath her luscious skin, he could feel her muscles working smoothly. Her hips briefly left his but came back down at an angle, causing a moan to leave his lips.

Slowly, Manuela worked her hips. Leon's hand gripped Manuela's head, his nails raking along her scalp, and he felt her shiver down the length of her body. Even so, she kept her slow pace, dragging herself up and down leisurely.

Leon tilted his head back, groaning loudly as she worked. The sensation was nothing compared to the feeling in his chest though. A comfortable warmth had spread throughout him, making him feel relaxed and happy. As Manuela's lips ran along his neck, he couldn't think of a place he would rather be.

Releasing her head, Leon placed his hand beside him for support before slowly pushing upwards. Manuela gripped his shoulders, trusting him for balance. As Leon reached an upright sitting position, Manuela adjusted her legs, wrapping them tightly about his waist. Leon smiled slightly as he felt the muscles stretch and clamp as she found her new balance. She once again kissed him before squeezing her legs together, using the leverage to rise up.

The sensation caught Leon off-guard. He had never had a partner with the leg strength to do something like that, and Leon groaned into the kiss, causing Manuela to laugh slightly. She gave him a proud smile as she continued the motion.

Leon's hands went to her hips, his fingers curled around to her back. Slowly, he ran his nails up along her back. With every few inches, Manuela's hips jerked and she gasped as she arched back. When Leon reached her upper back, he placed his hands over her shoulder blades. With his thumbs hooked under her arms, he gently pulled her shoulders back. Manuela looked at him quizzically for a moment, but when he began to lean down, she understood.

Manuela sighed happily as Leon began his work, though she didn't stop. As she continued, she found the motion easier. Placing a hand on Leon's shoulder, she tried rolling her hips forwards and backwards as she rose and fell, gasping as Leon groaned around her breast. The increased friction sent waves of pleasure through her body, and she found herself naturally increasing pace. With the faster tone, she couldn't control her voice, gasping with each drop.

Even so, she soon found that her legs alone couldn't achieve the speed that they were ramping up to. Pulling her chest back, she wrapped her arms around Leon, along with her legs. She opened her mouth to speak, but Leon followed her request without needing to be told. Even with the pent up need, Leon maneuvered carefully until she was on her back, his body mere inches from hers.

Manuela gasped as Leon rocked forward, her tone rising as he picked up speed. Even Leon, who had been mostly quiet throughout, was beginning to grunt. Gripping his back tightly, Manuela could feel her muscles surging with energy, and she pulled herself closer to him, urgently meeting him. Her hands shook as she tried her best to avoid digging her nails into his skin, while her toes curled as she focused on not bruising his hips.

Leon, meanwhile, was lost in sensation. He felt as if his mind had clouded, filled only with the presence of Manuela. As she wrapped about him, he could feel every inch of skin, from the strands of her hair that brushed against the side of his face, to her breasts pressed against his chest, to her muscled legs wrapped about him. As he felt his mind begin to fade into the blur, he lifted his face before diving for Manuela's lips.

Passionately, she kissed him back, all her previous restraint fading as she took control, even from the bottom. Their motions raced towards a peak, and Leon could hear her urgent gasps in her chest, escaping in the quick, far-spread breaths. One hand went to his head, trapping him against her, while her legs clamped tightly, pulling their hips flush together as everything went to white.

Leon's mind raced and his body shook violently as he started to come down from the high. Feeling numbed by the overload, the only thing he could focus on was the now tender kiss they were locked in, and the beating of Manuela's heart below him.


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note: Takes place after RE5. Lightly inspired by the character Anti-Venom from Spider Man, as well as the notes about Jill's antibodies.

Also, this coming week is going to be very busy owing to fair, so there will be no update next Tuesday.

Extra 8

"So what's the test for today?" Jill asked tiredly, sitting on the inspection table. Dr. Suzuki turned partly towards her for a second, appraising her before turning back to her charts. Holding back a sigh, Jill waited for the doctor to speak. She hadn't know the woman for long, but she had gotten the sense she did things on her own time.

"Your blood test had some interesting results," Dr. Suzuki responded at length. "Were you perhaps infected by the Nemesis at some point?"

Jill was startled by the question. Very few people knew about her injury at the hand of the Tyrant, save for the S.T.A.R.S. members, and some select personnel. "Yes, how did you know?"

"They didn't tell you?" The woman looked genuinely surprised for a moment before seeming to remember something. "Apologies, you did just return after all. I was a former Umbrella scientist. I worked on the Nemesis."

Jill's eyes narrowed, and she suddenly felt defensive about her body, crossing her arms. "I see."

"No need to worry," she assured, though she failed to look at Jill as she said it, preferring to read the chart. "Those days are far behind me. Besides, I'm here, aren't I?"

"I suppose," Jill half-heartedly agreed. "So what does the Nemesis have to do with this? That was almost a decade ago."

"And you were infected with the t-abyss virus, correct?" Dr. Suzuki responded, ignoring Jill's questions.

"I suppose. I was almost drowned in it. But I _was vaccinated_ against it," Jill reminded with a frown.

"That you were," she admitted, nodding her head. "According to Wesker's reports, the viruses briefly reactivated in your body before going into dormancy, being replaced with antibodies."

Jill bristled as she heard Wesker's name but she kept her temper, coldly watching the other woman. The doctor waited a moment before continuing. "Wesker tempered the Uroboros virus with your antibodies to make it less lethal. As far as we know, your cells and his are the only ones known to resist the changes from Uroboros, and without further samples, that is all we know."

"Yeah, so what?" Jill asked, her temper flaring a little. "What does all this have to do with me? Am I a threat?"

Dr. Suzuki turned to face her with a quirked eyebrow. "A threat? Hardly. I could stick you with a vial full of Uroboros right now and it would do nothing. Same with just about any variant of the t-virus. You have complete immunity."

Jill was silent for a moment as she processed. "Alright then. So I guess I am clear to-"

"That is not all," the doctor interrupted, stepping to the side to block her. "I said you were immune, not clean. When the body produces antibodies, it doesn't neutralize all of the disease, it just contains it. Flowing through your veins are hundreds of infected antibodies. If anyone ever got an infusion, they'd be affected by all the viruses in your bloodstream at once. Abyss, Nemesis, and Progenitor."

 _Well, that's a lot to take in_ , Jill thought numbly. A moment passed in silence as Jill regarded the doctor, the words sinking in. She felt her legs shake a little and she stepped back, sitting on the table, the doctor helping her sit down. "So...what does it mean?"

"First off, no giving blood," Suzuki pointed out. "I wouldn't worry about injuries though. I doubt you'll be having many of those."

"What do you mean? Are you saying-?"

"Your body neutralized the infection, but the P30 wasn't the only thing enhancing your body. P30 was a chemical derived from your neutralized antibodies. The reason it made you so strong is because of the viral cocktail inside. It also wore off quickly because it increased your white cell count, and your body flushed them in order to rid itself of the excess-"

"Can we not talk about the P30?" Jill interrupted, looking away. "Just tell me what is going to happen to me."

"Ah right, sorry. I forgot," Suzuki apologize, letting the topic slide. "In short, you have bonded with the viruses. However, unlike the others, it has gone into complete dormancy. It only made a couple of changes to your body before lapsing into sleep. You may have noticed the enhanced strength and flexibility you demonstrated in some of your...fights. The former was from the Nemesis and Progenitor, while the latter was the Abyss' fault."

"Will I have to worry about it coming back?"

"Very unlikely. All the active cells were flushed, and the remainders are bonded to the antibodies. I would say you are safe. There is one thing to worry about though," Suzuki amended, stepping over to her table.

"What is that?" Jill asked when the doctor lapsed into silence, messing with her equipment.

"One of the traits I mentioned was your ability to overcome any virus. Now, if I am right, that also means that it should work on viral agents," she explained vaguely, turning with a flask and a syringe. The syringe was filled with blood, which Jill presumed was hers, while the flash seemed to have a thin layer of something at the bottom that Jill couldn't identify.

"What's that?"

"A sample of Agent Birkin. Her skin has an amazing healing capacity, and from just a bit we were able to culture exceptional amounts of material. That's not what matters though," Suzuki noted dismissively. Depressing her thumb, she allowed a small amount of blood to drip onto the grown skin. Jill watched closely, waiting to see what would happen.

It didn't take long. Within moments, the flesh began to melt, turning into a pale, colourless goo as the blood sunk sunk straight through to the bottom. Within seconds, the culture had been entirely removed, leaving only her blood mixing with a gel-like layer of flesh.

"Wow…" Jill was left speechless. It was quite impressive, but she wasn't sure what to make of it.

"Wow indeed," Suzuki agreed, setting the tools aside carefully. "What this means is that not only is your blood corrosive to infected material, but most of your body is as well. Most of the time, white blood cells are restricted to the bloodstream, but have been shown to 'crawl' to infection spots if needed. In this case, your whole body has been infused with them."

"So infected can't even touch me?" Jill asked, a tinge of hope in her voice.

"Not exactly. They can, but it will be excruciating and very dangerous for them. Any bites would likely do more damage to them than to you, and any damage you sustain would heal remarkably quickly."

"That's good news!" Jill exclaimed, smiling for the first time.

"That it is. We'll need to do a few more tests before sending you back into the field, but until then, you should be fine. I recommend wearing your suit for a few days, just in case though."

"Do I have to wear that suit?" Jill asked quietly, her smile fading as quickly as it had come. Suzuki looked at her for a moment, thinking silently.

"We should be able to get a replacement arranged in short order," she promised. "Until then, it is just a precaution."

"Alright, but I'm not going to enjoy it."

"I never said you had to. Have a good day Ms. Valentine. We'll speak again soon."

"See you around," Jill waved as she left the medical examination room to the adjacent changing room. Hanging on the rack was the battlesuit Wesker had made for her. She looked at it for a long time, as if wishing it to disappear. Slowly, she reached a hand up towards it, grabbing the collar.

She sighed as she slipped into it. Much to her chagrin, it was actually somewhat comfortable, perfectly designed for her body. She had no delusions about it being accidental. The idea of Wesker inspecting her body while she was unconscious made her shiver with disgust. As she went to zip the neck line back up, the zipper snagged a bit on one of the bent teeth and she groaned in frustration.

When she had torn it open, she hadn't been gentle. In her hurry to reveal the P30 injector, she had damaged the neckline. It hadn't mattered much on the field, but now that she was back on base, she could feel the looks she was getting. It didn't help that there were features of the suit that she rather didn't exist. The accents very clearly accented her breasts and hips, which she did not much care for.

Even worse, the inability to seal her neckline didn't just reveal the top of her cleavage, but also the massive scar there as well. The vaguely spider shaped mark got worse near the edges, where the tubes had been hooked into her body. She refused to let Chris or Sheva blame themselves for it. Chris in general took it the hardest.

But now she was back, and she wasn't going to let him do that any more.

Gripping it tightly, she forced it up, feeling the strange increase of strength. Back when she had been escaping with Josh, she had barely noticed, but now it was as clear as day. Even as she moved, she could feel her joints, strangely giving her the impression of flexibility and strength. There was something almost disgustingly fleshy about her joints, like the Oozes on the Zenobia.

Shivering at the imagery, she forced the image from her mind as she entered the hall. "Jill!"

Jill jumped in recognition, turning rapidly on her heel. She lost her tension as she saw Chris, looking much worse for the wear. Seeing his concern, she summoned her best smile. "Hey Chris, sorry, didn't see you there."

"It's alright," Chris waved off the concern. "How are you? What did the doc say?"

"Aside from the fact that she worked for Umbrella?" she asked with a small smile.

"A lot has happened," Chris noted with a small smile.

"You'll have to catch me up on it. I already berated Barry for not giving me a proper funeral after all," she noted. Chris laughed slightly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Sorry about that...we should have-" Jill interrupted him, pressing a finger to his lips to stop him.

"It's alright. You never gave up, did you?" she asked quietly.

"Not once."

* * *

Chris was silent for a minute after Jill finished repeating what the doctor had told her. Compared to when he had caught her up, it was unusually silent. As she finished, Jill began to feel worried. Chris had gone through a lot to save her. Now that she was one of the infected, would he-

"Alright."

Jill didn't know how to respond for a moment as she waited for more. Nothing more came as Chris sat across from her, leaning on her forearms. His gaze remained on the table for a second before drifting up to her face with a small smile. "Alright."

"Alright? What does that mean?" Jill asked, slightly annoyed, mostly confused.

"It means that it's alright. So long as you're okay, everything's alright. I'll admit that it's a lot to take in, but I can only imagine how you must feel. How are you handling it?"

"I guess I'm handling it alright," Jill replied, still confused. "I kind of thought you would be a little bit more...opinionated on the whole thing."

Chris nodded in agreement. "Only a little while ago, I would have. After we lost you, I was a little...bitter. I banned the other agents from working with us."

Jill was going to interrupt, but Chris politely raised his hand, asking her to hold her thought. "I'm not proud of it, but I saw them as the same as Wesker. Anyone and everyone who used the virus was an enemy. When we went into Kijuju, there were a lot of people suffering. We saw people get dragged on the streets, turned into Ganados against their wills."

"Even Excella was a victim. Yes, she helped spread the Plagas, but she ultimately fell victim to it. When I saw you with Wesker...I realized I had to try and save you, even if you weren't having it. And that was before I realized that you were being controlled. For a minute...I thought you had willingly joined him."

"I would never…"

"I know you wouldn't. It was tense, and there wasn't a lot of time for thinking. Had we all had the chance to sit down and talk, maybe it wouldn't have been the first thought, but to be fair, I had a couple of guns pointed at me." Jill laughed slightly at the point and Chris inclined his head in apology. "The Uroboros virus was made using your blood. Under the influence of P30, you helped Wesker's cause, spreading the virus everywhere. If I held everyone ever associated with viruses at fault, I wouldn't be able to trust anyone. Besides, we all found it in our hearts to forgive Barry. You deserved it to."

"That means a lot to me Chris. Thank you," Jill said quietly, looking to the side for a moment. "I would like to apologize for hurting you. I almost strangled you to death."

"That wasn't you," Chris excused.

"It was still terrible. I did a lot of terrible things…"

"Wesker made you do that."

"But _I_ remember it. It may not have been my mind in control, but it was my body," Jill explained. "Will they take me back despite what I did?"

"We never identified you before the Kijuju mission. As far as the mission report stated, she was neutralized, and you were rescued."

"They need to know. I can't go out there without them knowing," Jill insisted.

"You sure?"

"Positive."

"Alright then. We can arrange that later. What matters right now is your safety. Are you sure you're alright? Wesker didn't do anything to you did he?" For the first time in the conversation, Chris' voice rose in intensity, holding back barely concealed rage.

"Nothing like that," Jill quickly insisted. "He just made me do his dirty work. Carried the virus...killed people…"

"You want to see someone about it?"

"That might be nice…" Jill admitted, surprised at how easily the words came to her. _It's Chris though_ , Jill reminded herself. Just the thought was enough to take the ease of the decision. "I think so. I might not need it, but better safe than sorry."

"Alright. We'll get that sorted. For now though, I think it's time for you to get some rest. I can't imagine you've slept well for the past three years."

"Can't remember the last time I slept well," Jill noted with a laugh, standing up. She could feel her muscles stretch, but none of them popped as they remained unnaturally limber. An upside at the least. "Where can I crash around here?"

"Well, there's the barracks, but I think you need something more secluded than that. They kind of refitted your old room after your...death, so you can use mine."

"I couldn't-"

"It's no problem really. If you need anything, I'll be right there," Chris assured. Jill tried to argue, but Chris gave her an expression that she knew brooked no such thing. Sighing, she shoved him lightly.

"Alright. But you better get some shut eye as well. After all, I hit you harder than you hit me."

"Well, it's against policy to hit a girl," Chris retorted with a chuckle. Jill could only shake her head with a laugh. It was good to be back.


	9. Chapter 9

Extra 9

Leon was respectfully silent during the drive. Their arrival in the airport had been smooth thanks to the arrangements, and no one unsavory had been tipped off to their arrival.

Watching the greenery fly by in the corner of his eye, Leon was surprised at just how vibrant it was. He thought he remembered the way it was before, but it paled in comparison to what he saw now.

The thick air was a definite change from the the facility, as was seeing the sun out. He barely had enough time to appreciate it last time they were here, given the circumstances, but now he had to admit it was pleasant.

Manuela's behaviour was more concerning though. She'd been almost completely silent the whole flight over, despite being the one to decide on the visit. As she leaned against the window, he could see her eyes were unfocused, barely noticing the world around her. Combined with her heavy outfit, it made for a rather depressing change.

"Is everything alright?" Leon asked at last. Manuela snapped up, realizing she had drifted into space.

"Yeah, I guess…" Manuela replied uneasily, crossing her arms close to her chest. "I'm just nervous I guess."

"Reasonable," Leon agreed, letting the conversation swing in Manuela's favour. A moment passed as he continued driving, focusing on the dirt trail. As the trail began to dip, he realized they were coming up on the village. "We're almost there."

Manuela nodded in acknowledgement as Leon pulled to the side of the road, slowing to a park. Shutting off the engine, he left his hand on the keys for a moment, looking over at Manuela. She met his gaze and nodded, and he slid the keys out, pocketing them. Sliding out, he took a deep breath as his boots once more hit the dirt.

The decision from above was to enter the village on foot, in order to avoid too much suspicion. It would only be a short distance away if they needed it, not that anyone was particularly concerned.

Leon expected he would be half a step ahead given Manuela's hesitance, but was surprised when she kept pace next to him, her expression shifting to determined. Leon smiled to himself at the sight; it certainly suited her better.

Rounding the corner, the jungle broke away, allowing them a view of the town. Leon whistled to himself at the sight. There was a strange mix of the old and new before them.

The village's layout was the same as the last time they had been here. All of the buildings lay on the low hill surrounding the small lake. Leon could even see the old market area had remained in the same place.

But so much had changed as well. The most obvious was the slightly towering building that lay at the top of the hill, with a large TerraSave symbol on the front. A hospital, or research facility if Leon had to guess. It made sense; it had been the site of an outbreak, and TerraSave was interested in the long term effects of that kind of thing.

With it came a few other things. Many of the rundown buildings he had seen previously had been replaced with most solid housing, and he could see the tell-tale signs of modernization with power lines and a cell tower. He smiled to himself as he beheld what could only be a small school near the TerraSave facility, with small children clearly visible. TerraSave had a habit of bringing other amenities than cures to the inhabitants of their visits.

The most reassuring thing to him was to see all the people. When Krauser and he had arrived, it had been a ghost town, right until they stepped through the gates. Then every window, doorway, and stall had infected crawling out of it. Seeing living, healthy people going about their lives was refreshing.

"Wow," Manuela breathed quietly, her bright blue eyes flicking in small motions. Leon could only assume she was looking at all the new developments, her enhanced vision making an easier time of it than just the obvious.

"Ready to head down?" he asked, offering his hand. Manuela took it silently, squeezing it for reassurance. Gently, Leon took a step forward, helping her continue on. After six years, she would finally return to Amparo.

* * *

Together they walked through the marketplace, observing the life around them. While Manuela blended in well, Leon noticed the strange looks he got on occasion. It didn't phase him though, and he just smiled at the people as they passed.

It was strange to see so many people after the last time. Very few of the old buildings remained, though he could see a few on the lake. Even so, a new concrete building had been installed, presumably as some form of fishing store. Over the tops of the buildings, he could see the church's tower, looking in much better shape than the last time.

As he looked at the wares on display, he noticed that despite the modern elements brought to them, there were still some things that existed. The stores all seemed to be run by families, and many of the things on display had elements of hand crafting in them. He smiled as he saw a fisherman holding up his catch for the crowd.

The smile disappeared as he looked closer, pausing in his motion.

He'd heard stories of it, but he had never seen it himself. The man was clearly holding a deceased Ghiozzo, large teeth and black skin evident. A slightly reddish tone lined its belly, making him suspect it was formerly a Piranha.

TerraSave's response to the spill caused by the Zenobia was to give out the vaccine to as many people as possible. While that was occurring, a more soluble form was being dispersed into major water treatment plants around the world, being introduced into the watershed to prevent widespread infection, but it was not unheard of to have infected fish and other animals show up in some of the more rural areas.

In some cases it was a blessing. The fish were larger than average, and had plenty of flesh on them. While difficult to catch, they provided plenty of food to the vaccinated. Leon had to give it to the villagers; when you were already used to hunting sharks in the water, a Ghiozzo was only marginally harder to kill.

Manuela seemed to have noticed as well, watching along as a woman walked up to the stall, appraising it as one would any other fish. It was a strange and somewhat surreal sight. The idea of someone taking home a fish like that and cooking it for a family just seemed so strange, but people made the most of what they could find.

Leon followed a step behind Manuela as she approached the stall, talking with the man. He could only catch snippets of their conversation, but the man seemed pretty laid back, pointing a couple of times to the TerraSave hospital. Manuela thanked him, returning to Leon's side.

"What was that about?" Leon asked, taking Manuela's hand as they walked.

"I just wanted to ask him about the fish. He told me the first time they appeared, whole parties of fisherman went out into the water and tried to hunt them down. When they brought them back, a TerraSave member recognized them and had the docks quarantined. By that point, a bunch of the men had already eaten a few of them with no adverse effects. After it was determined that the vaccine really had protected them, the quarantine was lifted and the fisherman continued hunting them. They're called _japuta_ here."

"Can't imagine they taste very good," Leon replied with a chuckle.

"From what he told me, they're actually a delicacy around here. They taste different than the rest of the fish in the region. More like deep sea fish."

"Huh, never would have thought. 'Come try the demon fish' doesn't really strike me as a great headline for a tourist brochure."

"You'd be surprised," Manuela replied with a chuckle. "After all, for years they advertised the Aztec pyramids, where people were sacrificed."

"Fair enough," Leon conceded. "Guess it's making the most out of a bad situation. With TerraSave nearby, they should notice if anything goes wrong anyway. You ready to head on up?"

"I suppose we should…"

Leon briefly debated offering to return to the airport but decided against it. He had already given her the option; if she wanted to turn back, all she had to do was say it, and she knew that. As she met his gaze, he smiled at her gently.

"Come on, it's a bit of drive. We should get going."

* * *

As they drove through the shattered gates, Leon had to admit he never thought he'd be seeing it again. Given its connections to drug trade, he had expected it would be sold off or given to the government. Instead, it had remained.

Not in the best shape, but it was certainly there.

The facade was clearly marked. In several places, he could see holes caved in from where Javier had stepped through it. Every brick bore the signs of sun exposure, and he could see cracks all over the surface. Had it not been built by a drug lord, he would have doubted its structural integrity, but behind the surface he knew there were powerful supports.

The strangest and most eerie thing was the lack of any life. No plants grew through the cracks, and he could only hear birds in the distance. On the ride over, the jungle had practically been deafening in terms of sound, but now there was only a heavy silence. Around the edges of the buildings, he could see the tinges of chemical burns, and more than one case of flame damage.

Pulling the car aside, Leon let it sit for a moment before sliding out. To him, it was strange, being back. He could only imagine how it felt to Manuela. Looking over at her, she looked around slowly, taking in the familiar sight.

"I can't feel anything alive…" she muttered, shifting uncomfortably. Gently, Leon gripped her hand in his own, squeezing it for comfort. She gave him a small smile, but still looked uneasy. "They killed everything."

Manuela took the lead, walking slowly towards the building, looking around at everything. Once again, he wished he could have been in her head to understand everything she was seeing, but at the same time he doubted how much would be one solid thought rather than a million scattered ones.

Reaching the steps, Manuela hesitantly put her hand on the rail, which had twisted from the heat of the purge. With each step, he noticed her drawing up straighter, as if preparing to fight something. Reaching the patio, he noted that there hadn't been much left. Even the pots the plants had been in were gone, and no door hung in the front doorway, having presumably been removed to make cleansing easier.

Stepping through the doorway was like entering into a hollowed shell. Gone were all the paintings and decorations. Only the walls remained, and even those were in a state of disrepair. The staircase had been smashed in, sections of the roof having collapsed onto it. Not even the roof sections remained, having turned to dust a long time ago.

"They really destroyed everything, didn't they?" Manuela asked quietly.

"You can't really blame them. They couldn't risk the Veronica virus spread. Still...I guess it's all gone," Leon agreed sadly, looking around. Manuela walked over to the ruined staircase, sitting on the lower steps. Leon took a seat beside her, allowing her time to think.

Leon wasn't sure what to do, or if there was something he could do. He doubted it. He just had to be there for her. Once they got home, he had some ideas, but for now, they were here.

"Is there anything you wanted to see?" Leon asked.

"I'm not sure. I can't imagine what could have survived this," Manuela replied flatly.

"Why don't we just walk then? It might help," Leon suggested standing up. Manuela nodded, getting to her feet. Looking around, she seemed to head in a random direction. Leon followed behind as they walked through the mansion. Some rooms he recognized, some he was sure he had never seen before, and others that were too wrecked to tell. A few times they had to climb over debris in order to reach the next area.

Leon had to put his foot down when they found the door to the labs though. Manuela looked at it silently, debate in her eyes. Gently he grabbed her shoulder, turning her away from it. "There's nothing worth it down there."

"Yeah...you're right," Manuela agreed at length, forcing herself to look away from it. After another short walk, they ended up in an area Leon could recognize, even given how different it was.

The greenhouse was no more.

The roof had been shattered completely, with only the wireframe in place. The raised path that had formerly surrounded the Veronica Plant had been knocked down, warped and twisted from the heat, and corroded in several places. No trace of plant life existed, and the ground was particularly burnt, the scorch marks having stained the earth into a rocky texture.

"It's just gone…" Running her hand along the rail, Manuela seemed to be lost in a memory. "It used to be beautiful...and now it's gone."

"I'm sorry," Leon said quietly. "I can't imagine what this is like."

"It's not your fault," Manuela assured him. "I don't know what I expected. I would have made the same call. Maybe I just hoped I could find one thing to take home...remember it all."

"Do you want some time to yourself?" Leon asked, feeling slightly like he was intruding on her memories.

"I wouldn't mind a little bit. I just want to check the upstairs. See if the upper levels managed to retain anything. Do you mind waiting for me in the car? I think I want to go after this."

"No problem. I'll see you there," Leon promised, briefly touching Manuela's shoulder comfortingly. A heavy feeling settled in his chest as he walked away, glancing to see Manuela amidst the ruins of her family's home. Even with the horrible history, she had connections to it, and they had all burned to the ground.

He had to do something.

Waiting till he was out of her hearing range, Leon pulled out his phone. "I need you to find something for me."

* * *

Returning to the airport, Leon had to consider the whole trip a bit of a mixed bag. On the one hand, it had been nice to see Amparo back in shape, and it had brought Manuela a lot of joy to learn that her family's old dam was now powering the town, rather than controlling it.

The only thing she'd managed to pry from the ruins had been a small, slightly damaged jewelry box from the upstairs. Leon had his suspicions about where she had found it, but found it better to avoid asking, given how solemn she had been bringing it back.

As they headed towards the private jet, Leon hoped his request had gotten through. He was just beginning to worry when he noticed one of the attendants attempting to flag him down. Excusing himself briefly, he jogged over.

"Here you are Mr. Kennedy. The BSAA found it in their investigations after the incident. I've also been told there were a few possessions that survived the purge that were moved to holding until the time where Manuela was allowed access to them. Unfortunately, with all that was going on, it got forgotten. Do you want me to send the items to the HQ?"

"Not just now. We'll work on it later," Leon promised, taking the envelope from the attendant, thanking them for their help. He returned quickly to Manuela, who gave him a confused expression. Leon handed the envelope to her.

"What's this?"

"Just open it and see." Manuela looked hesitant for a moment but easily ripped the top open, sliding out the contents, which turned out to be a photo. Rotating it, her eyes widened as she recognized it, and she had to cover her mouth as a small whimper threatened to escape.

It was a photo of her mother and father on their wedding day. It had been one of the few times Javier or his wife had appeared in public, and one of the few photos of her mother that existed outside the family's now non-existent personal collection. He had been on the fence about Javier's presence in the picture, but had decided that in the end, this was the same man who had tried everything to save his wife and child.

"Leon...this is...I can't believe!" Words failed Manuela, and she threw herself at him, her arms wrapping almost painfully tight around him. Leon smiled, hugging her back as she buried her face in his chest, fighting back the tears of joy.

Neither of them said anything as he held her, content to let her express her feelings by just holding him. He didn't mind if she never told him everything she was thinking. After all, he understood her just fine through what she did.

Some things didn't require talking. Being there for her was one of those.

Manuela recovered slightly, letting go of him. Wiping the tears aside, she smiled to him before glancing at the jet. She laughed slightly before speaking. "Come on. Let's go home."


	10. Chapter 10

Extra 10

"You can come on in."

Rachael nodded obediently as she stepped through the door, glad they had adjusted the clearances. The cooler air of the room felt good against her skin, and the dimmed lights allowed her to open her eye much wider, able to appreciate the room much better.

The room was very spacious, with very little in the way of furniture. The main feature was the bed-like couch beside the end of a piano. The latter was occupied by a younger woman, who smiled patiently at Rachael. Casually, she tossed her hazel locks to the side, blowing slightly to get them out of the way of her face. "Why not take a seat?"

Rachael obliged, sliding onto the couch. Her skin slid across the surface easily, and she took a moment to get comfortable. The woman waited patiently as Rachael took her time, struggling to sit upright under her own power. Eventually, she managed to get her muscles to work together, preventing her from slouching.

"I'm ready…"

"Alright then. Why don't we chat for a moment first, just get things working. I heard you had a trip recently?"

"Yes...we went to the BSAA HQ. They wanted to see us."

"Why was that, or are you allowed to tell me that?"

"Sorry…" Rachael apologized quietly.

"It's alright. It's not my job anyway. How did it go?"

"It was alright...I didn't talk much with the others...there was an old...acquaintance of mine there."

"Did you get to talk with her much?"

"A little. Circumstances were...unique…"

* * *

" _Hello again Rachael," Jill greeted, leaning against a table. Rachael silently observed the woman, taking in her appearance. Last time the two had met, Rachael had only been able to get a sense of the woman's forme, but not her features._

 _There were a few differences she could note. The most glaring was the change in uniform. Compared to her tactical gear, the skin tight suit was a drastic change, but Rachael just assumed it had a reason. The most noticeable thing for her though was the change in the way Jill moved. She had felt strong, but now Rachael could sense something more._

 _Something like her._

 _Rachael's eye narrowed slightly at the feeling, brushing it aside. Jill had been up to her eyes in the virus, but been inoculated. Realizing she had failed to say anything, she shifted slightly. "Hello."_

" _How have you been?" Jill inquired, her voice intentionally neutral._

" _A bit better. My eye works now…" Rachael explained, motioning to her good eye for emphasis. Jill nodded, seemingly disconcerted by the fact that she was actually being observed. "I never realized this is how you looked?"_

" _I didn't," Jill replied with a hint of bitterness in her voice. "The suspension caused my hair to bleach, and my skin to lighten."_

" _I wouldn't have been able to tell you," Rachael pointed out. "You still look the same to my senses. Just a little...something else."_

" _Yeah...about that," Jill started with a sigh. "It's probably the t-abyss virus."_

" _You were infected before, and I never sensed it," Rachael noted with confusion._

" _The suspension didn't just change my appearance. It reactivated the viruses briefly. Now I've got them in my antibodies."_

 _Rachael was silent for a moment as she processed the information. "I see...did they change anything?"_

" _We're not sure about everything, but it made me stronger, and toxic to infected individuals."_

" _Toxic?"_

" _If I shook your hand, it would hurt," Jill explained with a small laugh._

" _I think I will decline to test that...it could be worse though."_

" _The man who killed my team kidnapped me and made it seem like I was dead for three years before using my anti-bodies to make another virus? How could it be worse?"_

" _You could look like me," Rachael stated flatly. "When the virus activated in you, you got the strength and agility. I have those too, but I paid for it in this...I was never as strong as all of you."_

 _Jill went silent, her expression unreadable as she looked to the side as if thinking. "I'm sorry. That was rude of me. I didn't think-"_

" _It's alright. What happened was terrible," Rachael assured. "We just have to keep going. Some good came of it; you're stronger now, and Wesker is dead."_

" _That's true," Jill admitted quietly. The two were silent for a moment, before Jill spoke again. "Come on. Enough gloom. I just got back from being dead. I've got a lot of stuff to catch up on. Wanna come with?"_

* * *

"I noticed you didn't say bad."

"It wasn't...just odd."

"I would say most of the things around here are odd," the woman countered with a smile. "Your speech has gotten much better."

Rachael said nothing, inclining her head instead. "What is the plan for today?"

"We'll start with warm ups as usual, assuming you're feeling up to it."

"I think that will work," Rachael agreed, rolling her neck as she focused on her muscles. The woman nodded, laying her hands on the piano. Gently, she played a note, holding it for a moment. Rachael turned herself reflexively towards the piano, her eye unfocusing as she listened.

Soon enough, a sound arose form her throat, wavering to match the pitch. Focusing all her energy on her neck and chest, Rachael willed her airway to be clear enough to sustain the note. As her muscles warmed to the position, the sound rose in volume, finally becoming audible to others.

Rachael reached the limit of her breath, and her throat shifted back to its previous arrangement, strangling the note with a choking noise. Rachael frowned at both the discomfort and the horrid noise it had produced.

"Very good. I think you held that one longer this time," her instructor complimented. "This is why we are warming up."

The instructor played a slightly higher note, and Rachael tried again, feeling her false palette open easier this time. As she breathed in, she could feel the air in her true lungs, making her feel strangely warm. Holding the note was not just a matter of the right mouth position, but also controlling the myriad of additional muscles in her body. If she slouched too much, her body would bend out of shape, making the sound foul. If the false palette flipped back into place, she would choke for a moment, which was all it took.

The worry she had flooded her body, making her shake slightly. She cut the note off early, leaning forward on one hand to allow herself some time to recover. Her instructor paused the note, looking over at her. "You okay?"

"Just having a bit of trouble."

"Take as long as you need."

Rachael nodded her thanks as she breathed slowly, trying to control her anxiety. She found it odd sometimes; she could go into combat fearlessly, but the thought of messing up here terrified her. She felt the same fear every time she was around people. She had to constantly be in control. One wrong step, and an arm reaching out to stop herself could well decapitate someone.

Closing her eye, she thought about how much progress she had made. These lessons were proof of that. Not too long ago and the fear of any kind of communication with someone she hadn't known for a while would have reduced her speech to one word responses.

When the lessons had first started, she had barely been able to do anything more than talk to the woman, let alone sing at all. Her first attempts were gurgling hisses, or choking warbles; both of which made her reticent to try again. But she had been coaxed into trying again. And again. And again.

Until finally one day she had managed to get the sound out the way she wanted. It was only for a moment before surprise caused her to lose form, but it had been a moment she remembered clearly. Her excitement had been tempered, unsure of if she could do it again, but as her instructor worked with her, it was becoming easier. There were times she had a bad day, but they usually passed quickly.

"I'm ready to try again," Rachael confirmed, straightening herself up. Her instructor nodded again, playing a note. Rachael matched it again, feeling her confidence bolster. Her instructor stepped down a note and Rachael followed, briefly struggling as she tried to control herself.

Before Rachael knew it, they had somehow worked themselves up to a basic tune, her instructor humming support atop the piano notes. She allowed more time for breathe gaps, but kept the pace going smoothly. Rachael's mouth twisted into a smile as they reached the end of the song. Rachael let out the breath she was sustaining, laying down as light-headedness overtook her. Her instructor sat back with a proud smile, letting her take a break.

"I think that was pretty good. First time all the way through," her instructor noted. Rachael nodded weakly as she lay on the couch. Her smile only widened as she realized she doubted she could have even done the whole song as well as she had back when she was human. By no means had she been a singer, and yet here she was.

She couldn't help but laugh at the mental image of herself on a stage, singing in front of people. The very idea was laughably impossible; there was no way she would be able to do that. But she wouldn't mind singing in front of friends. Maybe. She hadn't given the thought much time, but it didn't seem horrible.

Sitting up, she wished she could interact with them more. Her inability to see had been a huge barrier, as moving around the base took time, and details were lost on her. She could barely discuss the weather by how it felt. Even after that had remedied itself, she had troubles speaking, and she wasn't cleared to go on missions like the others. Despite being the only people who could understand her, she felt like she had closed herself off from them.

Snapping back to the present, Rachael sat up slowly, careful to avoid a rush of blood. Previously idle thoughts seemed to take on more weight as she thought about them. Slowly, she turned to her instructor. "Hey...could you help me with something?"

* * *

Admittedly, after one had died once, there was little that could be compared with that level of fear, but that didn't mean that the fear wasn't having a physical effect on Rachael's body.

The piano had been moved to the living room, with Rachael sitting next to it. As she waited, her anxiety made her fears run wild. She was all too conscious of her posture, and the presence of some of the facility crew, who were hanging around with curious expressions. She had to admit she had kind of invited it upon herself, but there was no turning back now.

As if confirming her thought, the other three arrived, each with slightly differing reactions. Sherry's eyes immediately widened and she broke into a smile, seeming to understand what was going on. Leon meanwhile was his restrained self, though a smile had ghosted onto his face. Finally, Manuela sported a gentle smile, understanding exactly what was going on. She guided the other two to the couch, seeming to know what to do.

Rachael waited for them to settle in before taking a breath. "Thank you for coming...I hate to bother you, but I wanted to share something."

Turning to her instructor, she nodded. With a smile, she began playing the song Rachael had chosen. Nervously, Rachael paced her breathing, ready for her first note. Swallowing her fear, she began to sing.

"Alas, my love, you do me wrong,

To cast me off discourteously,

And I have loved you oh so long

Delighting in your company.

Greensleeves was all my joy…"

* * *

Another short one, but I like the general tone. I decided to cut it off mid song since A) song fics are a little over done and are not my cup of tea, and B) it was more about Rachael getting to the point of singing than the actual song.

That said, I recommend you listen to the song. In case you did not know it, it is called "Greensleeves."

As a final note, I am actually planning on moving onto some more plot relevant stuff next week. I have the opening chapters of a couple of fics, one focusing a little on Moira after Rev2, and one based on Marhawa Desire. While both will be completed prior to the events of RE6, one may take precedent over the other based on reception. So if you like one more than the other, do show some love and support. With that said, see you next week!


	11. Chapter 11 (Understanding Fear 1)

Author's Note: Takes place after RE:REV2, and assumes the 'good ending.' Moira's side-stories will have a bit more of a continuous story to them, so they have their own numbering system in addition (indicated by parenthesis).

Chapter 11 (Chapter 1)

"So you are safe?" Leon questioned, unnaturally serious.

"One hundred percent cured," Claire assured him.

"What do we know about the potential for mutations?"

"Almost nothing," Claire admitted. "Other than that it is triggered by fear. We're not sure if it can be triggered by a second spike in fear, but that is why I came here. I'm not asking you to make her an agent, just help her out."

Leon pondered the request before nodding. "Alright, but it'll take some time. Give me some time, and I'll set it up so she can meet the others one at a time after I've met her."

"Thanks Leon. It means a lot to me," Claire said with a sigh. "Are you going to want her alone, or..?"

"I would actually recommend coming to the first meeting, but then letting her get some time with everyone alone as well."

"Alright, can do," she replied, turning to leave.

"Hey Claire."

"Yeah?"

Leon hesitated for a moment as he looked at the woman. "I'm glad to hear you both made it out safely. We'll take care of Moira, don't worry."

"I know you will Leon."

* * *

"So...you're the agent?"

Leon chuckled as he beheld the newest face in their small world. It was obvious to Leon that she was younger than Claire by a fair few years. She had black hair that she had arranged tomboyishly, which matched with her clothes. He did notice that he could see some copying in that as well, her jeans and coat mimicking Claire's own get up.

"That would be me. Name's Leon," he greeted, offering his hand to Moira. The girl looked at it awkwardly for a second before shaking it. Her face screwed up for a moment as she looked at him, trying to place a thought.

"You're not _that_ Leon, are you?" she asked.

"The same one," Claire affirmed.

"I see my name has come up before," Leon noted with a small laugh.

"Maybe once or twice," Claire said with a taunting tone. "I'll tell you later. So, what is the plan today?"

"I figured it might help to talk a bit about what the plan is. Lay out some ideas going forward. Come with me and we'll talk." Leon motioned for the pair to follow him, leading them down the side halls. The others had already promised to keep their wandering to a minimal to help the acclimation process.

"So what is this place exactly?" Moira asked.

"We call it Quarantine, but it's technically the Metabiological Agent HQ."

"So everyone here is infected?"

"Actually, with you here, there are only four infected. The rest are just staff, or myself. Here we are," Leon finished, opening a door. Letting Moira and Claire go before them, he stepped into the room last, letting the other two take the lead.

Moira looked at the gym before them with a cocked eyebrow and a somewhat unsure expression. She glanced at Leon, as if trying to glean some form of appropriate response, but he kept his face neutral.

"Nice gym," Claire commented, hands on her hips. "Kind of reminds me of the one at the BSAA HQ. Used to find Chris there whenever I would visit."

"So, you guys use this thing to practice and all that shit, right?"

"Basically. I figured this would be as good a place to make a point as any," Leon explained, prompting the other two to look at him in confusion. "Sherry! Come on out!"

Sherry obliged, stepping out from behind the rock wall, a smile on her face. She jogged over to the group, flashing a winning smile. She offered her hand to Moira. "Sherry Birkin, pleased to meet you."

"Same," Moira returned, looking at Sherry. Leon smiled as he braced for the impending question. "So uh...I don't mean to be rude, but how old are you?"

Sherry chuckled, waving off the concern. "No worries. Just shy of twenty six."

Moira expression betrayed her surprise, and she very clearly gave Sherry another once over. "I look younger don't I? One of the small benefits of the virus is that it slows the aging process. Among other things."

"Other things?"

"Guess that's my cue," Sherry noted. "Come on, let me show you the weights."

Moira glanced at Claire, as if asking permission. Claire just shrugged with a smile, following after the blonde. Sherry lead them to the weightlifting room, before stopping beside a weight bench. Sherry turned to Claire with a smile. "You been keeping up training?"

"Not as much as I might have liked," Claire admitted. "But I could probably manage a decent amount."

"Why not demonstrate for Moira?" Sherry requested.

"Sure thing." Claire stripped off her coat, handing it to Moira. Leon noted silently that the younger girl seemed a bit flustered at the action, but kept it to himself as he slid beside the machine opposite Sherry. "Set her up at about a hundred."

The pair lifted the weights onto the bar, and Claire focused as she grasped the bar. With a grunt, she lifted it up, and began lifting it up and down. Pretty soon, she had the rhythm down, doing it fairly smoothly. After a few reps, she set it up on the hooks. "Go ahead and put it up a few."

"How long have you been doing this? I want Moira to have some reference for this."

"I've been training with weights since my teens. I used a lot of Chris' equipment, so for about twenty something years?"

Moira's surprise wasn't remotely concealed as Claire lay back down, lifting the heavier weight with only a little bit of trouble at the start. Soon enough, she was back in the flow, though it was with a little more noticeable effort. Eventually, she put them back on the rack, popping up. "Man, been a while. I need to get back into shape."

"I think you looked fine," Moira blurted before backtracking. "I mean...you looked like you were doing fine."

"Wait till you see what this one can do," Claire motioned towards Sherry with a smile. Sherry took a small bow before removing her coat. She turned around slowly, showing her thin physique for a moment before laying down on the bar.

Moira's eyes widened as the bar was loaded with about two-hundred pounds of weight. "Are you sure she can lift that?"

"Watch and be amazed," Sherry replied with a smile, pulling the bar up. Moira's hands flew to her face as she feared it falling but soon fell away in surprise as Sherry began smoothly and easily pumping away.

"Sherry actually weighs less than me," Claire explained. "According to the charts, her max weight should be hovering somewhere around my challenging weight. But as you can see, she's barely breaking a sweat."

"I can even hold a conversation," Sherry noted with a smile. "And I've only been practicing for about half the time of Claire."

"Is it the virus?" Moira asked, completely unreserved in her awe as Sherry put the weights back on the hook.

"Mostly. I still have to train to reach the peak of my strength, but it pushes my strength well beyond normal. That's not the only benefit, but we'll talk about those more later. There's still some stuff that needs to be talked about. See you around!"

Moira could only watch Sherry go, stunned with the information dropped on her. She was silent for a moment before she turned to Leon. "Can I do that kind of stuff?"

"The G-Virus makes anything it infects stronger, but we don't know all that much about the t-Phobos. That's what why we wanted to bring you here. We can test to see what the virus did to you, and help you harness it. We're not asking to make you an agent, but the least we can do is help you figure it out so you can control it."

Moira pondered for a second, looking between the two of them. "I guess I can try it out."

* * *

Moira was a little nervous she had to admit. Today was her first day with Sherry alone, and while no one was watching she knew it would only end in embarrassment. Seeing Sherry in front of her with boxing mitts made her feel like she was about to get demolished.

"Come on, go ahead. I promise I won't hit back," Sherry assured.

"I'm not sure about this. Isn't this a little bit of a big jump? Shouldn't we start with a punching bag or something?"

"When I got transferred here first, this was how Leon helped me awaken my power. Against a punching bag, you don't feel any stress. You need to feel engaged in the fight. Besides, I can take it."

"What if I hit your head or something?"

"Moira, I had a building impale me, I can handle a hit to the head."

Moira had to admit she had no retort to that, reluctantly setting into an imitation of Sherry's stance. She threw a weak punch at Sherry, but the latter just raised her arm, stopping it dead. Moira tried again, getting blocked once more. Every punch she threw, no matter how creative or tricky was blocked with what felt like a brick wall. After one particularly hard punch, she actually had to shake her hand a little from the resistance.

"How am I supposed to get anything from this?" Moira asked, increasingly frustrated. "I can't get passed your guard."

"I couldn't get passed Leon's either," Sherry confided. "Manuela and I both see a little faster than normal, so we're a little faster to react. Manuela's actually faster than me, just not as strong."

"So if you're stronger than me, and can see faster, how the hell am I supposed to land a hit?"

"Leon is physically weaker than me, and sees everything at the normal rate, and yet we're an even match. It's not all about who has the better body," Sherry explained. "Though I will give him the benefit of years of training. We just have to try and activate the virus in your blood."

"Isn't that a bad thing?" Moira asked with increasing concern.

"It would be better to say we don't want the virus to lay dormant. If it activates, then we worry, but having it _active_ isn't too bad."

"So how do we do that?"

"You've already started to get a little more energetic from fighting. Now we just need to push it more."

"And to do that..?"

"I have to fight back," Sherry replied with a wink. Moira raised her hands defensively.

"Woah woah woah, I don't remember that being part of the deal. Won't you break my bones or something if you punch me?"

"Just because I _can_ hit hard, doesn't mean I will. Besides, you've got the padding. We don't have to though. I'm sure there are other ways."

"No...no...it's okay. Just...go easy on me okay?"

"You got it," Sherry promised before throwing a slow jab. Moira tried to mimic her blocking motion, but didn't have the same strength behind it.

"Jesus ow," Moira winced as she clutched her forearm. "That stung a bit."

"You should try to knock the hit aside instead of catching it. I've got thicker skin, so I deal with it, but for now we should assume you won't develop that kind of thing. Try again."

This time Moira batted the jab away, though with a bit more force and motion than was necessary. Sherry paused to correct her. Trying again, the motion was a little more controlled, and as they went, Sherry could see her getting into it.

Watching closely, Sherry focused on Moira's eyes. When either of the pair of them had really gotten going, their eyes had changed colours. She didn't know all the specifics, but it was enough of a sign that she thought it worth paying attention to.

But as they continued fighting, there was no sign of change in Moira's eyes, only focus and a little bit of exhaustion. Sherry was so focused she almost missed Moira motioning for them to stop. Luckily, she stopped her hit, stepping back.

"I think that's enough for today," Moira said with a sigh, stretching. "Anything else?"

"Uh...no, that should be fine. We actually went a little over time," Sherry apologized. "Claire's probably waiting."

"Well, I better go meet her. Thanks, that was kind of fun," Moira admitted. "I'm going drop this stuff off. See you around!"

Sherry watched the younger girl go, chewing her lip in thought. Even when only pressed a little, both Manuela and her had their viruses activate, so why hadn't Moira's?

* * *

Just a quick introduction to Moira, and her unique situation compared to the already strange life of the others.


	12. Chapter 12 (Understanding Fear 2)

Extra 12 (Chapter 2)

A lot of things had changed. Moira noticed a bunch of large changes first, like preferring to avoid being out at night, or locking her doors reflexively (the latter had gotten her locked out of her room once). It was the smaller changes that took more time to notice, like the way she always checked every angle of a room after walking in, or how she went wide around corners.

The more she watched Claire, she noticed a lot of the same. The older woman was more subtle about it though. Moira had never realized it before, but Claire was still acting like she was expecting an attack. And so did she.

Claire was just better at hiding it.

It hadn't taken her long to see the same patterns amongst the new 'team.' Leon was the worst. He acted almost constantly as if he were in the zone, his focus always intense. Occasionally, she had seen him let up a little with the others, looking almost casual, but she could still see it in his face. She found herself looking into the mirror a lot after that.

She felt like she had aged visibly. Her tomboyish appearance always made her look young, and makeup had always helped. Now she understood why Claire almost never wore it; a little over six months without it and she had almost completely forgotten it had existed until a friend mentioned her lack of it to her one day.

It had taken some time to get back to where she could go outside and be with others. For the first little bit of time, she had just been with her family, and Claire. Claire had been the one to help her get back outside, and she was thankful for that.

She had eagerly met her friends, ready for the return to normalcy, but it never came. Every time she just expected to lapse back into the pattern normally. She had expected that she would lose count of the hours, forget to call her dad when they changed plans, and relax and shoot the shit with her friends.

She had texted her dad about every change, waiting impatiently to make sure she got a response that he knew where she was going. She had made sure to keep track of how long until dark. She had dragged her friends to food because it was lunch time, and she couldn't skip it for fear of losing energy.

The most embarrassing part had been how much she had eaten. Sushetovanie had many things, but a surplus of food was not one of them. Six months of lean rabbits hunted with dwindling ammo was not exactly great for her carb counts. The second she had walked in, she had started drooling. The concept of _any_ food was a good one.

It was when she had practically shouted at her friend to stop when they were about to throw food away that she realized how different she was. After that, she had decided to leave, and the goodbyes were a bit awkward. She had plenty to time to think about how much she'd fucked up her day out with friends as she drove home.

When she had come home, she had been surprised to see Claire there. After the attack, she had been over a lot, especially during the early parts, but there was just something about her being there after hanging out with her friends. The thought kept nagging her the whole evening.

Somehow or another, Claire was always there that night. Their house was not particularly big, but she was always in the same room. It was not until that evening when Claire decided to force Moira to watch some stupid movie that she realized what was going on. Claire knew what happened. She didn't know how, considering she hadn't even told her dad, but she knew.

And she asked Claire as much.

Claire's expression had been sad for a moment, but then she gave a warm smile. She'd always listened to Claire; she'd been through much more in her life, and was someone Moira respected.

" _You didn't have to say anything. I can see it. The same thing happened to me,"_ Claire had confided. " _After Raccoon City, it took me a long time to realize I was okay, and that not every doorway had a zombie behind it. You never really forget that kind of stuff, just learn to live with it."_

Seeing how Claire had coped with it all was helpful, and it made it a lot easier to enjoy the movie. Even now, she couldn't remember what it was, but she knew that night would be in her memory for as long as she lived.

What she didn't understand was how Claire not only kept living, but went back out into the field and helped people. Sure, they rarely ever saw anything, but Moira had heard the stories. There was a reason they had a security team on site at all times. Even with vaccines, the risk of injury was high.

After the island, Moira had considered leaving TerraSave. The idea of going out and potentially seeing the same creatures that had hunted her was terrifying. Even if they had cured the Phobos virus, the Ouroboros was still loose in the world. Even the Revenant were tough, and those had been produced from dead bodies. From the stories she'd heard from Claire, even those who rejected the virus became near impossible to fight.

Still...she'd fought them. Even the Durga, who were the pinnacle of reanimated Ouroboros research had eventually become a matter of pattern and skill. She could almost feel her hands twitch through the motions as she thought about it. A small part of her wanted to feel a bottle in her hands, just so she could feel a bit safer. Molotovs had been their best weapon against the monsters. With a small shake of her head, she realized how strange her life had become. She doubted many people her age had ever actually made and used Molotovs, let alone felt comfortable with them.

Maybe she would talk with the others, see what they thought. Moira nodded to herself, making up her mind.

* * *

Moira managed to find Sherry easy enough. She tended to hang around the obstacle courses a lot, constantly pushing herself. Considering her drive, Moira thought she would be a good enough start.

She watched with mild awe as Sherry dropped off the top of a wall. The first time she'd seen Sherry do that, she'd covered her ears and looked away, expecting her legs to break. But Sherry was able to just absorb it, landing as if she'd hopped off a small platform. Now she just watched the act, constantly at a loss to describe how cool her powers were.

"Hey there Moira. What's up?" Sherry asked, a bright smile on her face. Moira couldn't help but smile back; even though Sherry was older than her, she felt closer to her own age.

"Just wanted to talk a bit."

"About what?"

"Just uh...wanted to ask how you got into all this, if you don't mind?" Moira looked at Sherry hesitantly, unsure if she would be willing to share. She hadn't known Sherry all that long, was it too forward?

Sherry's expression turned serious, and Moira was about to apologize when Sherry interrupted her. "It's alright. I'm fine talking about it. It's just not a very uplifting story."

Sherry motioned for her to come with her over to a nearby bench. They both took a seat, and Sherry leaned back against the wall, seeming to try and dredge her memories up. "How much have you already heard?"

"All I know is that you have the G-Virus, but that's it."

"My father, William Birkin, created the G-Virus for Umbrella as his idea of the perfect weapon. He tried to sell Umbrella's secrets to the US Army in exchange for protection, but Umbrella had him killed for it."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Moira offered. Sherry smiled a little, but didn't say anything for a moment.

"My father, before he died, injected himself with the virus. He mutated, and released the T-Virus into Raccoon City. He is the reason it happened," Sherry explained, clenching her fists. "I was young at the time, so I don't really remember everything, but Leon told me about it when I joined. You see, the G-Virus only really works when it is spread to those who share the same genetics as you. And of course, I was the only one who met that description."

"He hunted you," Moira realized breathlessly. Sherry nodded sadly.

"He tracked me throughout the city, and Leon and Claire had to protect me. At one point, he managed to get me, but they cured me. As we were leaving, he attacked the train we were on, and they were forced to put him down for good. His body was destroyed in the explosion, but he'd stopped being human long before then."

Moira was almost afraid to ask her next question. "What about your mother?"

"She was also a researcher at Umbrella. She died trying to stop my father from getting to me. He ran her right through."

"Jesus Christ...fuck, I'm so sorry."

"It happened a long time ago," Sherry assured, though Moira could still hear the pain in her voice. "After that, the government took me into custody, trying to extract a cure for the G-Virus from my blood. They succeeded, but with Wesker still at large, I couldn't be allowed to wander free. So they held me in custody."

Sherry laughed mirthlessly, shaking her head. "I learned later they were using me for blackmail against Leon. They forbid him from seeing me unless he became an agent. Even me joining the agency was them playing the cards. They told me that I would be allowed to go outside if I became an agent."

"Aren't you allowed to go out there though?" Moira asked.

"Yes, but not without supervision. Wesker is dead, and I'm still being kept like a princess in a tower. The only time I go out without supervision is on missions, and those are hardly a walk in the park."

Moira nodded slightly, mulling over Sherry's words. "You mentioned Wesker?"

"Albert Wesker. A co-worker of my father's, and one of the most evil people to exist. I'm just glad Chris killed him."

"If he was anything like Alex Wesker, I understand how you feel."

"There was another one?"

"Yeah. She called herself the Overseer. Real bitch if you ask me. She kidnapped Claire and me and created the Phobos virus. In then end, my dad killed her with Claire's help."

"One less Wesker in the world."

"All the better for the rest of us," Moira agreed. The two shared a comfortable silence for a moment.

"Did that help at all?" Sherry asked, turning to Moira.

"Mostly," she agreed. "If you hadn't been pressured by the agency to do so, would you still have joined?"

"Of course," Sherry answered immediately. "Even if Leon wasn't here, I still would have. I went through something no one should have to. If I can stop that from happening, or save someone like Leon and Claire did for me, I have to."

Moira nodded, processing the response. After a moment, Sherry continued. "You're having doubts. It's alright. I just hope I helped you feel a little better."

"It's nice knowing that others have survived worse than me," Moira agreed.

"Well, I don't know about that. Surviving six months on an infected island strikes me as pretty bad."

"Fair enough." Moira nodded before standing up. "Thanks for sharing."

"No problem. You should talk with the others though. Aside from Rachael, they have been here longer than me."

Moira frowned at the mention of Rachael. She had met the others in varying amounts, but it seemed to have been universally agreed that Rachael was not going to meet her. Still, she had been given some helpful advice and she was going to follow up on it. "Alright. I'll see what I can do."

* * *

Moira found the greenhouse a little bit more than creepy. She had only been through it once, and the plants moved far too much to her liking. The fact that Manuela tended to hang out there was an unavoidable problem.

Standing in the doorway, she felt the waves of heat radiate off the building. Reaching up a hand, she knocked on the door awkwardly. "Uh...hello. Anyone home?"

Through the glass, she could see a shadow stand up straighter. To her surprise, the door opened up, and she could see Manuela in the middle of the greenhouse, looking at her with a smile. She looked like a picture from a gardening magazine, clad in what appeared to be a summer dress. The only difference was the long sleeved shirt she wore under it. Moira wondered how on earth she could wear such heavy clothing as she removed her coat.

"Come on in, don't stand in the door," Manuela invited. Moira stepped inside, feeling like she'd gained ten pounds of water in her lungs. She jumped as the door closed behind her, and she could see the vines of a nearby plant retracting into their pot. "What's up?"

"I kind of wanted to talk, but if now is a bad time-"

"Not at all," Manuela interrupted, gesturing to a chair. Moira looked to the door, regretting her decision already. Slowly, she worked her way down the row, flinching away from the slowly moving plantlife. Most of them seemed to be based on normal plants, but the thorns over most of them convinced her that she shouldn't be touching them.

Moira was thankful when it opened up into a larger sitting area and she hurried a bit more than she cared to admit away from the reaches of the plants. Manuela had turned her back, attending to her plants.

"What did you want to talk about?" Manuela asked, turning around and leaning against the planter table.

"I wanted to know how you ended up here. I asked Sherry about it, and she told me to talk to the rest of you," Moira explained. Manuela nodded knowingly with a smile.

"Fair enough. I don't mind sharing if you're willing to listen. I'm sure you know why most of us are here, right?"

"We all have one kind of damn virus or another, right?"

Manuela chuckled lightly. "Pretty much. Sherry has the G-Virus, I have the Veronica, Rachael has the Abyss, and now you have Phobos. We all have different strains, but they are all based on the original T-Virus strain in one form or another."

Moira's eyes narrowed as a memory pricked at the back of her mind. Veronica rang a bell, but she couldn't remember where she had heard it. Maybe Claire had mentioned it? "Veronica...where do I know that from?"

"It was created by Alexia Ashford, the woman responsible for sending Claire to Antarctica. It was created to…" Manuela kept speaking, but Moira stopped listening as she began putting pieces together.

Claire never liked talking about that mission. She had no troubles talking about Raccoon City, or Harvardville. She made jokes with the rest of the crew about some of the times they'd faced the infected. She'd only heard of Claire going to Antarctica once, on a cold winter day. Someone had mentioned it being cold outside, and her Barry had offhandedly remarked about how it must be nothing compared to Antarctica.

Claire had gone from brightly smiling to dead silent in a blink. At the time, she was still a bit too young to understand what was going on, but retrospectively, she could tell something bad had happened.

"Moira?" Manuela looked at her questioningly as she startled.

"Shit, sorry, got lost in my thoughts. Uh, did you ask something or did I just look like I had gone to fucking Mars?"

"You just looked a little out of it. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, just thinking a lot. So uh, why did you join up in all of this?" Moira asked, trying to drag the conversation away from herself.

"Well, the short answer is that Leon brought me here. I am not from America," Manuela explained. "I am actually from a town called Amparo. After Leon brought down my father, I came here."

"Woah, woah, he took down your dad? And you came with him?" Moira asked incredulously.

"My father was a crime lord, and he used the virus to keep me alive. My mother and I both suffered a genetic disease. After I escaped his custody, he released the virus, killing the villagers. That was when Leon and…" Manuela paused in her speech slightly, glancing to the side. "Leon and Krauser came to stop him. By the end, he was barely begging to be put out of his misery. They granted him the death he longed for."

"Jesus," Moira breathed, look at the woman in a new light. "How did you not change like him?"

Manuela waved her hand, focusing back on her plants. "Trust me, you don't want to know."

Moira had to admit her curiosity was piqued but knew better than to push the question. "Who was Krauser?"

"He was a man sent with Leon. During the mission, his arm was irreparably damaged and he was dismissed. After seeing the virus' power, he sought Wesker and joined with him. It was him who kidnapped the President's daughter. Leon and I had to kill him on our mission in Spain."

"Just the two of you? How did you manage?"

"Leon is quite skilled," Manuela noted. "But I am not helpless either. Like Sherry, I am stronger than normal, but my mutations mostly enhance my senses. We had some...tools."

Moira's eyebrows rose at the tone she used. "Like what?"

"Come with me. I think you will find it a little interesting," Manuela invited, setting down her watering can. Moira jumped up from her seat, following behind the woman. She barely even paid attention as the plants moved out of their path, though she did put her coat back on as they stepped outside.

Manuela lead her across the yard and into the building. As they walked, Moira narrowed down the rooms they could be headed to until they finally ended up in front of a room she had not been to yet.

"Welcome to the armory," Manuela explained with a flourish, opening the doors. Moira stepped inside somewhat apprehensively. While she had gotten over her fear of guns, she still preferred not to have to touch them unless needed. Still, she had to admit that the collection was something even her father would be jealous of.

"Are all of these yours?"

"Not all of them. They are arranged by their intended users," she explained, leaning against one of the rows. "These ones are mine. I can't handle as heavy caliber as Sherry can, and I'm not as skilled as Leon, but I'm faster than either of them, so I have weapons that do well with that."

Moira nodded, looking along the weapons rack. She noticed the mix was rather...assorted. She could see a few machine guns, as well as a couple of rifles. "Why do you have rifles?"

"My eyesight is better than most people. Besides, that is for long range or targeted engagements. Most B.O.W.'s have a weak spot, and they are useful for hitting them."

Moira's eyes widened as she beheld a rather...strange set of weapons. They appeared to be gauntlets, but by the looks of them, they had blades attached as well. That was most certainly not standard issue.

"I see you've noticed the Garrador gauntlets. I have to admit, those were not my idea." Manuela gently motioned for Moira to stand aside as she reached into the case, grabbing the gauntlets. She easily slipped into them, and after fiddling with the straps for a second, she nodded to Moira. "Make sure to stand back."

Moira did, and a moment later she was glad she did. With a metallic shriek, the blades extended to full length, easily doubling Manuela's reach. The blades were long and thin, with curved tips. Despite their length, Manuela was easily able to tote them around, and even more her hands fairly easily inside the gauntlets.

"Those are fucking awesome! How often do you use them?"

"Very rarely actually," Manuela confided, retracting them before setting them back in the case. "They're not standard issue, and preclude the use of a weapon while extended. Not to mention very lethal. Most missions, we go in under the assumption that we'll be needing to take people alive. They just aren't needed often."

Moira nodded in understanding. She could understand that, and was relieved to hear they weren't always going in to eliminate people. Glancing around, she looked at the other weapons on display. Sherry's rack seemed to have a few heavier weapons, and she was surprised to see a shield and battering ram in her equipment as well.

Leon's was a bit more standard, with a few rifles, but a lot more pistols than anything else. If anything, his selection seemed a bit underwhelming. As she neared the end, she found some of the more powerful stuff in the variety of a few revolvers and a couple of heavy armaments.

The last rack she presumed was Rachael's. She had no idea what the fourth member of their group was capable of, so she inspected the weapons curiously. All the handles seemed to have been heavily modified, and had strange muzzles and mods she couldn't identify in the slightest. Most notably, there was a lack of melee weapons. Leon had a few knives, and Sherry had a stun baton, but she couldn't see anything other than one knife that looked like it had seen better days.

"These are Rachael's," Manuela confirmed. "We have to work a lot on her equipment to make sure that she can use it properly. Once you meet her, I'm sure you'll understand."

"When will that happen?" Moira asked, a little bitter. It felt like some large secret that she was out of the loop on for no well explained reason.

"Soon, I would have to guess. She's a bit slow to open to new people." She seemed to trace Moira's gaze to the knife. "She's had that ever since she worked for the FBC. It's one of the few personal items that survived the Zenobia."

"What happened there?"

"She was betrayed by her supervisor and her partner. She was isolated and...well, killed. The only reason Rachael still walks among us is the virus. It didn't bring her back fully though. When the virus brings you back, it doesn't do it in a pretty fashion."

Moira felt a sense of dread and sorrow as she looked at the knife. Its dull edge seemed to be almost rusted over, with a reddish stain betraying long encrusted blood. Whatever had happened to Rachael was horrific.

She absently acknowledged Manuela excusing herself, and she was left alone, staring at the knife. As she continued to stare, she knew that she had two things she had to do. First, she would talk to Claire about Antarctica, and find out what happened to her. Second, she would talk with Rachael, and see what the virus had done. Surprisingly, she didn't feel any fear about her plans, only determination.


	13. Chapter 13 (Understanding Fear 3)

Author's Note: I tend to favour the Japanese translation of dialogue (hence my making Leon smart, but not a genius), so for the sake of Claire and Neil's relationship in REV2, it was strictly professional, with no sexual undertones.

Extra 13 (Chapter 3)

"Hey Claire, can we talk for a minute?"

Claire turned, looking over the back of the couch at Moira. She had to admit, it was a little suspect asking to talk to her after coming through the door, but she felt it was important enough.

"Sure Moira. Here or..?"

"Let's go to my room," Moira suggested. Claire nodded, hopping up from the couch without any protest. Idly, Moira wondered if she had just gotten used to dropping things at the drop of a hat on account of her job. She wondered if she would ever get to that point herself.

The two headed upstairs, tracing the inside of the tight staircase. Despite the size of the house they had moved into, Barry seemed to have a preference for simplistic designs, and minimalist structures. After all the grandiose designs of the various villains her family and friends had defeated, she couldn't blame him either.

Quietly, she entered her room, not wanting to disturb her sisters. Even with her adjustment period, getting used to her room had been strange. The first night, she kept waking up, trying to find her pistol. After that, Claire had offered to keep watch, and she had slept well. The long night with Evgeny had trained her to only feel comfortable with a weapon, or someone else on guard.

"Just sit anywhere," Moira invited, trying to sound casual. To her surprise, Claire sat down beside her, her expression serious. Moira's heart fell as she realized Claire already knew they weren't just having a casual conversation.

"Did something happen?" Claire opened.

"What? No, nothing happened," Moira assured, surprised at the concern. She didn't fail to notice the breath of relief either.

"That's good to hear. What's on your mind?"

Moira bit her lip, wondering how she should proceed. "I wanted to ask you some stuff. I understand if you don't want to talk, because it had to be pretty fucking painful, but if you did want to talk, I thought I would try and-"

"Is it about Rockfort Island?" Claire intuited, interrupting Moira's ramble. A moment of silence passed and Moira nodded slowly.

"You really don't have to talk about it," Moira assured, motioning towards the door.

"No...it's okay. After all, you just went through something pretty shitty. What do you want to know?"

"Uh...I kind of didn't think I would get this far honestly," Moira admitted, prompting a small laugh from Claire.

"After Raccoon City, I decided to help my brother take down Umbrella. Of course, he didn't like the idea of me going out there, but he couldn't stop me. We have that in common," Claire whispered conspiratorially. "I ended up getting caught, and was sent to Rockfort. Luckily for me, the t-virus broke out on the island, and allowed me a chance to escape."

Moira absorbed the story intently. She had heard about Rockfort Island, especially when Chris came over. That part of the story she knew, but while she was eager to get to the end, she knew there had to be more.

"I wasn't the only one there though. There was another prisoner, Steve Burnside. His father was a researcher for Umbrella, but near the end, people ended up turning on each other. His father was imprisoned and experimented on, but Steve escaped in the same way I did. Together, we were able to fight off the infected, but we were not the only people. Alfred Ashford, one of the sons of the Heads of Umbrella, ran the facility, and accused me of bringing enemies to his base. At the same time, Wesker showed up, and tried to use me as bait to catch my brother. We managed to escape the island, but Wesker sent a Tyrant after us, and it caused the autopilot to redirect to Antarctica."

"The research facility there was already overrun. Steve and I managed to find a snowmobile to get us out of there, but a giant tentacle attacked it, and captured us both. It turns out that Alfred chased us, and woke his sister, Alexia, who had been in deep cryo, trying to bond with her personal virus. The Veronica virus."

"Isn't that the one that-?"

"The same one," Claire confirmed. "That was the first time it was used. I came to, and eventually found Steve…"

Claire's voice trailed off, and Moira could see her composing herself. Her veins ran cold as she realized they must be coming up to the reason why she never spoke about Antarctica.

"Alexia had already infected him. He mutated and tried to kill me. I managed to get away from him, but one of Alexia's tentacles broke through the wall, destroying the gate between me and him, as well as pinning me. As he raised his axe, I thought that was the end. I was already losing consciousness from the stranglehold, and I wouldn't have been able to dodge if I wanted to."

"Instead, the axe severed her tentacle, saving me. And for his troubles, it impaled him," Claire spat bitterly, hatred blazing in her eyes. "His final act was saving me. As he died in my arms, he told me that he loved me."

Claire's voice broke at the end of her speech, and she tilted her head up, fighting back the tears. Moira couldn't find the words to speak. Claire had always seemed to strong. No matter how terrifying the situation, she was always there with a joke and a smile, facing challenges head on. The weakest she had ever seen her was the moment on the helicopter, where she had looked distraught at leaving Moira on the island.

But this was entirely different. The proud, wise, and determined woman she knew had just poured her heart out, shining light on a traumatic chapter of her history. Moira gently grabbed Claire's hand, feeling her squeeze it tightly. The corners of Claire's mouth shook as she continued speaking.

"That wasn't the worst of it. I had to leave him behind in order to go help my brother, and while I was gone, Wesker stole his body. After fighting to stop B.O.W.'s, and even fighting the virus' influence, he ended up being used to help spread them. Wesker was a damn monster," Claire growled, her grip tightening to an almost painful level. "When my brother killed him, it felt like revenge had finally been achieved, but it still hurt remembering him."

Something in the depths of Moira's soul was moved, and she found herself trying to voice it. "In the tower...when it was coming down...I felt for certain I was going to die. When the rocks fell, I didn't feel fear. I just felt happy you were able to live. I know, deep down, that was what Steve had to be feeling. I just know it."

Moira waited as Claire seemed to ponder her words, and Moira was beginning to think she'd gone too far when Claire smiled a little. "I guess you're right...I guess you're right."

"What was he like?"

"He was really proud at first. Hated to admit he was wrong," Claire pointed out with a laugh. "Bit of a joker, but a good guy. I admit I didn't really get to know him that well, but he was a good man."

"Sounds like, the way you talk about him. I'm sure he'd be happy to hear that you're still fighting now. That you're with your family. With us."

Claire nodded to herself, shaking away her tears. "Thanks Moira...I needed that. Sorry you were kept out of the loop for so long."

"It's fine," Moira said with a shrug. "All it took was nearly dying on an island to get you to open up but hey, I'd say it was worth it."

Moira smiled as Claire couldn't hold back her laughter, crossing her arms across her stomach. Her heart burst with happiness as she felt the smile spread to her own face. After seeing Claire so tough and strong for the both of them, it was nice to see her relax.

"Well, I'd say you've officially joined the survivor club. Now we can share all the stories we couldn't before," Claire said with a laugh. Moira raised an eyebrow, looking at Claire disbelieving me.

"Really? Are you telling me there are stories I haven't heard? And I swear, if it has to do with someone being a sandwich, I will actually hit you."

"Nothing like that," Claire promised. "When I was in the Harvardville airport, you would not believe what I had to use for a weapon…"

* * *

"Hey boss man!"

Leon turned, arching an eyebrow at the moniker. Moira rushed up to him, looking intent. Instantly, Leon focused on her; all the times he had seen Moira, she had been a little confused and lost.

"You know, you are really hard to find," Moira pointed out, straightening out with a sigh. Her whole expression was a mixture of unamused and intent, leaning more towards the latter.

"Sorry about that. A few things going on here and there," Leon explained vaguely. Moira seemed to let the explanation slide, beginning to speak energetically.

"So I have been trying to find you for like...the past half hour? I had to ask everyone where you were, and only Manuela was able to tell me where you were," Moira explained, throwing up her hands in frustration. Finally, she took a breath, composing herself. "So, I wanted to ask something from you."

"Shoot."

"So I've met Manuela and Sherry, but they keep talking about the last member of your team, Rachael. I want to meet her."

Leon was silent for a minute. "She's on a mission right now actually."

Moira's shoulders fell, and he could feel her disappointment. "Well...shit."

"Once she gets back, we'll see," Leon assured. "How much do you know?"

"Not much," Moira admitted. "I know about the t-abyss, and I saw some of her weapons, so I assume she has some kind of water...thing?"

"You could say that," Leon agreed with a chuckle. "It's a little bit more complicated than that though. Let's walk."

Moira seemed hesitant, but accepted, following Leon. "I'm sure by now you know that this place is designed to contain and facilitate people with viral infections. Everyone is different. Manuela poses a risk to an uncontained ecosystem, and Sherry poses a structural hazard."

Leon smiled slightly at the barely contained snort from Moira before continuing. "We work to try and make the best out of what we are given, and make sure we can operate safely."

"Rachael is different. Her grasp on her virus is looser than the others, and she poses a risk in different ways. Unlike the other two, she has a lot to relearn, and cope with. In some ways, I don't think she can ever be the same."

Leon paused, letting the information sink in. Moira seemed to mull it over for a moment. "So...what do you want me to do about it? Not see her?"

"I think it would be good for you to finally meet. She won't be back from her mission for a few days though. In the meanwhile, I think you should prepare for meeting her."

"And how do you recommend I do that?" Moira asked, slightly exasperated.

"When you were on the island, what did you feel? Living day to day, barely enough food to survive."

"Depressed, I guess," Moira answered with a shrug. "But I sure as hell wasn't going to fucking curl up and die. Fuck that noise."

Leon nodded, signifying she had hit the nail on the head. "Focus on that. When you meet Rachael it will help. Until then though, is there anything else I can help you with?"

Moira seemed to consider the offer. "Well, there is one thing."

"Name it."

"I was looking at the armory earlier, and was thinking maybe you could help me look at some stuff?" Moira asked, somewhat hopeful. Leon just smiled, nodding.

"Alright, let's head over to the training range."

* * *

Leon had corrected Moira's stance a few times, and now he felt pretty confident with her pose. There were still a few problems though.

Her grip on the gun was like iron. He had never seen anyone hold onto a weapon as tightly as she did. Even when Sherry was hoisting heavy weapons, she never held it that tightly.

It was almost like Moira was clinging to it, afraid of something. He had been told she had overcome her fear of guns, but the way she was acting, something was holding her back.

"Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, why?" Moira asked, somewhat nervous. He had heard and seen for himself just how eager Moira was to please. Despite her brash personality, she seemed to genuinely care what others thought of her. He wondered how much Claire had to do with that; she had been the one to suggest this arrangement, so there was always the possibility that Moira was simply doing it for her. He brushed that thought aside; Moira had shown more than a passing interest in working with them.

"You're holding the gun pretty damn tightly," Leon commented, gesturing to her white knuckles. Moira glanced before becoming slightly self-conscious, noticeably avoiding his gaze.

"Sorry, I'll fix it," she muttered. Leon shook his head.

"Is there something wrong? It seems almost like you're worried about something."

"I just...I can't figure out how to...fucking hell why can't I speak?" Moira gave up, throwing her unarmed hand up. Leon stepped away from the wall.

"Let's see if we can't figure this out, okay?" he offered. Moira nodded and he stepped into the target range next to her. "Alright, aim down the lane, and fire away."

Leon watched, noticing her aim was pretty decent; he supposed months of chasing rabbits and such would lead to that. Noticeably, she aimed for the head. Not a bad tactic against infected.

"You're still holding tightly," he pointed out. "Let's try something."

Leon walked over to a panel, inputting a few keystrokes before motioning for Moira to watch the lane. A few targets popped up, moving around slowly. Moira got the cue, firing at the targets. He had to give her credit for her accuracy. She had definitely learned some light arms skills.

Adjusting the course as she fired, he began increasing the speed and randomization of movement. Moira was able to adapt, but began missing shots. They hadn't yet figured out how her virus worked, but he wasn't testing that at the moment. As she focused harder on shooting the targets, her muttering subsided, fading into complete silence. As she focused on the targets, her grip loosened as she lost herself in the motions.

As he watched, Leon tried to figure out why. When she went to reload, her grip tightened for a moment, and so he figured it had something to do with the realization of the gun in her hand.

Thinking back on it, he remembered a few things Claire had told him. When she had first got back, Moira had been plagued by insomnia and an odd sleep cycle, partially due to the needs of survival, but apparently from a lack of safety as well. Claire had ended up spending the night in her room for he first stretch while Moira re-adjusted. Leon had to admit he could understand the feeling; even now he locked his doors habitually, and made sure to keep a weapon in the house.

He did wonder how often she had her weapon on her while she was there though. If his suspicions were true, it would have to have been most of the time. His eyes narrowed as he pieced things together, reaching over to pause the system.

Moira realized it was over, and set her gun down, turning to Leon. "How was that?"

"Not bad. Your accuracy was exceptional, even if your reaction speed wasn't enough to keep up with all of it. How often did you carry a weapon while you were on that island?"

"All the time. Evgeny said you needed to, in case the monsters attacked in the night," Moira explained, a flash of guilt on her face.

"Did something happen?"

"One night I kinda...reached the end of the rope. Evgeny told me it was hopeless to try and get home, but I just couldn't accept it. I left our base, and accidentally got the attention of a bunch of infected. I failed to shake them, and they followed me back. Evgeny and I had to fight them off, and we burned through a lot of our ammo. And that was before the Revenant showed up," Moira recalled with a shiver. "Seriously, fuck those slithering bastards."

"We all make mistakes," Leon confided. "It can get really hard out there sometimes, but as long as you don't give up hope, you can keep fighting."

"Yeah...but I still betrayed the old man's trust...he really didn't forgive me until we split. Do you know what happened to him?"

"The reports say he died in his sleep. He was buried on the island."

"Good...that's what he would have wanted," Moira muttered, trailing off. Leon decided to round the conversation back.

"Tell me, did you sleep with a pistol by your bed?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I think I realized why you hold the pistol so tight," Leon explained. "Before the island, you refused to touch a gun. Suddenly, you're required to use them to defend others and yourself. You learned to get over your fear of guns, but not what they can do. You hold your gun tightly because you're afraid of what they can do, and you want to control that."

Moira seemed torn about whether to respond or not, but held back, opting to listen. "If you hold the gun too tight, it actually causes your muscles to shake a bit, throwing off your aim, and tiring you out more from the strain. You need to loosen up, let the weapon have some freedom. If you trust yourself, you will be just fine."

After a moment, Leon motioned to the range and Moira dragged herself back, picking up the weapon with a large sigh. Nodding to herself, she raised the gun, aiming down the lane. Leon could see her talking to herself, but couldn't hear anything, instead focusing on her hands and where the bullet ended up.

A few rounds later, and he was starting to see improvement, but there was still a little ways to go. "When Claire was with you, she used a weapon. Did you trust her?"

"Yeah. She knows what she's doing," Moira countered.

"But she also let you not use a gun. She trusted you to be able to defend yourself and her without it. Claire trusted in your skill," Leon affirmed. Moira looked down, seeming to be committing the sentiment to memory. She turned back to the lane and Leon noticed an immediate change in Moira's posture.

She seemed much more confident, her pose basically a carbon copy of perfecting shooting stance. Her knuckles were no longer white as she aimed the gun, firing round after round. Even when she reloaded, it was automatic, and smooth. His mind flicked back to one of the reports he had read, as recounted by her father. Upon finding him and Natalia, Moira had basically unloaded on the Overseer, hitting her square in the head from a noticeable distance. If Barry considered it a skillful display, he knew better than to doubt the gun expert.

That was what he was seeing now. Leon reactivated the course, and Moira adjusted instantly, her aim snapping from target to target. A small smirk came to her lips, and she gained a determined expression, speeding up with the course. Leon eyed the inputs. Soon they would be reaching the more difficult levels.

Watching closely, he waited for...something. If he was being honest, he wasn't sure what to expect. The Phobos was new and very little was understood. The most he could hope for was a-

He caught a glimpse of Moira's face as she turned to the left, hitting a target. In the split second she paused to line up the shot, he could see her eyes clearly from the side. A light red tint had occluded the normal brown tones, faint, but present in between the bands. It was exceptionally hard to notice the red streaks, but now that he had seen them, he knew what to look for.

He heard the sound of a door opening, and shut off the system, turning to the visitor with a smile. Moira took off her earmuffs, turning. "Hey what give-Claire!"

"Hey there deadshot," Claire greeted, eying the course with a mildly impressed look. "You might even give Barry a run for his money."

"Uh, thanks," Moira responded nervously, avoiding the older woman's praise. "What are you doing here?"

"What, am I not allowed to visit?" Claire teased, gently punching Moira's arm. "I wanted to check up on you, and make sure Leon hadn't started breaking any bones."

"You know just how to ruin my fun," Leon joked flatly, causing Moira to pale a little. "I'm joking. I wouldn't break them. Just bruise them."

He motioned to Moira. "She has a lot of potential. Her accuracy is exceptional for her level of practice, and her reaction times are exemplary."

Claire's expression hardened slightly, glancing between the two of them. "You think it might be the virus?"

After waiting a moment to see if Moira would answer, Leon decided to. "Maybe. Look at her eyes."

Claire nodded, gently grabbing the sides of Moira's face. The younger girl's face turned red as Claire got close, and she flicked her eyes around, trying to avoid eye contact. Claire didn't let up though, and finally Moira made eye contact. Claire's eyes narrowed as she inspected Moira's eyes. "They've got red in them."

"Really? Let me see!" Moira demanded, looking around for a mirror before grabbing her phone from her pocket. Holding it up, she tilted it around for a bit, pulling down on one eyelid as she looked. "Woah...that's not creepy at all. Does it stay like that?"

"Not if Manuela or Sherry are any measure of it. It tends to happen as the virus reactivates in the bloodstream. It becomes more visible in the blood vessels of the eyes, along with the wrists."

"Huh...not sure whether that's cool, or terrifying."

"At least it's not pink," Claire commented with a small smile. "Wouldn't want to catch it."

Moira frowned, half-heartedly before smiling and gently slapping Claire's arm. "God do you ever stop?"

"Nope. Your father's worse, and you know it."

"Don't remind me," Moira groaned, pinching her nose. "Well, I guess we're done?"

"Yep. You are free to go," Leon confirmed with a smile.

"Thanks for looking after her," Claire said, extending her hand. Leon shook it tightly, nodding. They briefly shared a common look before Claire turned to Moira. "Come on. Let's get home."

Leon watched the two women head towards the door, contemplating. His plans had worked, but he still didn't fully understand why. He shrugged lightly before beginning to clean up. In the end, it only mattered so much. It would be up to Moira how she handled the virus. He could only do so much for her; in the end, she would have to be the one to figure it out.

But if it didn't make him curious, that would be a lie.

* * *

Alright, that is enough waffling. The next chapter in this little story will be the meeting of Moira and Rachael proper, thus marking the culmination of this little side-story. Of course, there will still be stuff to happen, but that is down the pipe for the minute.


	14. Chapter 14 (Understanding Fear 4)

Extra 14 (Chapter 4)

Moira sighed as she looked out the window. The cold morning fog had frosted up the windows, making it annoyingly hard to get a look outside. She had managed to find one that was near the loading bay, and was fairly clear.

She had honestly hoped it would be a better day than this. She had managed to find out that the truck would be coming early in the morning, far too early for her liking. She had woken up early in an attempt to make herself presentable for the arrival, though she honestly felt like she still looked like a mess. The only thing saving her was the fact that even as she nodded off, her face touched the cold glass, waking her back up.

Rubbing her eyes, she peered out the window, trying to spot anything in the fog. Leon had not been kidding when he had mentioned the weather was pretty glum around here. In the distance, she could see the faint lights of the road that went passed their facility, the people mindlessly driving by. None of them looked even remotely like the kind of car she was looking for.

Huffing, she leaned against the head of the couch, irritated by the wait. She almost wished she had accepted Claire's offer to accompany her, if only to have someone to talk to while she waited. Claire had been hard at work, having already returned to her duties as a TerraSave member. While she still didn't go abroad yet, Moira had seen her hard at work on her laptop, or dealing with reports. Some nights, Moira wondered if she got any sleep.

Ultimately, she had decided to let Claire get some rest last night. It meant Moira would be a bit more bored than usual, but she couldn't bring herself to draw upon Claire any more than she already had.

Idly, she checked her phone, making sure she hadn't missed anything. No real news in the world, she noted. She wondered if there were ever bits of news she had missed before that would have pointed to the things that had happened, and would happen. Was there some report on strange vehicles leaving the facility that would point to Rachael's departure? Were her and Claire watched after their experiences?  
The thought left a bad taste in her mouth, and she closed her phone quickly, deciding against looking. Chris had been adamant about keeping their lives undercover and away from anyone that might pry too much, and for that, she was thankful. She had not seen much about the older Redfield, but from what Claire had told her, he was devoted to destroying the virus.

Moira smiled to herself as she thought about it. Everything made more sense, now that the veil had been pulled away. Her family's relocation to Canada had always been something she had never questioned, but with the revelation of the Weskers, she could honestly say she understood why. She had never met Albert, but if he was anything like Alexia, that was to be feared. From what she had heard, Albert had actually been worse.

Other things made more sense as well. Claire's constantly absent brother, the strange family friend she now knew as Leon, and even the scare surrounding the President a few years ago all made sense. It felt odd to be in the loop now; no, if anything she was part of the loop. Her own story was now hidden away from the world, under carefully crafted layers of half-truth.

Looking down at her hands, Moira felt a strange mix of emotions as she flexed her fingers. She didn't feel any different, but she had seen the footage of herself on the shooting range the other day. The was no way she could have done that before the incident. Had she experienced the effects of the virus right after it all, she might have been more scared, but after seeing Manuela and Sherry, she wasn't sure what to feel. She almost felt...excited.

And yet, still fear tugged at the edges of her mind. She had seen what Alex had become, that darkened, maddened figure, and heard what it had done to others. Her teammates own fathers were evidence of that, becoming monsters that sought only their own deaths.

And Rachael. She still didn't know what to think of the scarce evidence she had heard about the final member of the team. She was stable, that was for certain, but she more than suspected her body had been forever changed. Moira knew she wouldn't be able to cope with that. The image of what Alex had turned into forever haunted her, and while the doctors assured her the Phobos was dormant in her, she couldn't help but feel concerned.

The sound of tires approaching snapped her to attention, and her eyes widened as she saw an armoured car moving down the road towards the loading bay garage. Immediately, she shot off the couch, letting the blanket she had wrapped about her fly away messily. She cringed slightly at the noise she created as she opened the stairwell door, taking the steps two at a time.

Through the wall, she could hear the sound of the gates opening, and she hustled quickly, mentally counting down the floors until she reached the garage, pausing just before the door. Taking a deep breath, she slowly opened it.

The first thing that greeted her eyes was the small security detail that had collected in the garage. While roaming the base, she had seen them, and even had some good times joking with them, but the sight of them in full armour was slightly unnerving.

None of them seemed to react to her presence, even as they glanced at her approach, so she stepped out of the doorway, closing it behind her. The garage door opened, and for once, she was thankful for the fog, as it dulled the light that came in, making it easily tolerable.

Still, she squinted slightly as the truck backed in, the red lights much easier on her eyes than the ones she was used to seeing. As the truck backed up, she got a much better look at it. The whole thing was reinforced heavily, and had quite a bit of room. She noticed the vents on top, pouring out clouds of warm air that were easily visible in the cold air.

One of the men flashed a hand signal, and the truck stopped in place as the garage door closed, sealing the room in. Moira jumped a little as the climate control kicked on, pouring warm air in, while also dousing her with a blast of it. Stepping away from the vent, she felt a shiver crawl up her body as she adjusted to the sudden change in temperature.

"All sealed!" one of the men called, his voice and face obscured by a gas mask. Moira felt a certain fear rise over her as she wondered if she should be wearing one as well, but had no time to react before the back of the truck opened with a hiss. Red-light spilled out as the doors slid apart, and Moira drew in a breath as she saw Rachael for the first time.

The mysterious member of their team unfurled their limbs from where they had been crouching, easily growing several times in size. Her long limbs snaked ahead of her as she navigated her way out of the back. As she stepped down, her long, talon like toes curled in mid-air before lying against the back of her lower leg, forming a strange bony knob for a foot. Two hands gripped the door frame on one side, while a single grabbed the other side. Her head was tilted down, obscuring her face, though Moira could see what looked like hair plastered across most of it.

As she set her other foot down, she seemed to regain her bearings, standing up straighter. It was almost horrifically fascinating to watch, as the muscles in her body seemed to twitch bonelessly as she straightened herself up. It was a bit like when a balloon figure got inflated, with the bottom straightening up before the top did.

When her head finally straightened, Moira got her first look at Rachael's face. Most of it had been obscured by what she now realized was a massive bone-like replacement for her hair, and the only eye she could see was pale, and barely looked functional. An eye that settled squarely on her.

Moira felt her voice catch as Rachael took a step towards her, practically sliding along the floor. As her gaze tilted up, she realized just how much taller Rachael was than her. Finally, she paused in front of her, and offered her more human-like left hand.

"You must be Moira," she greeted, her voice testingly neutral.

"And you must be Rachael," she managed in return, gripping the offered hand. She felt a shudder go through her at the slightly slimy quality of her hand, but she suppressed it. After all, she had been exposed to worse things.

"Leon mentioned you to me. He told me a few things about you." Moira felt a little bit of her concern fade away as the conversation carried on, and Rachael seemed fairly in control, if not a little too creepily passive. Slowly, she let go of the handshake.

"Same here actually. I was kind of hoping we could talk?" Moira explained, suddenly feeling very conscientious of the fact that Rachael had just returned from abroad, and the first thing that happened was she was going to be bombarded with questions by someone she didn't know. "If you don't want to that's cool-"

"It's alright," Rachael assured, motioning for Moira to follow. "Let's go somewhere else. I need to sit down."

Moira followed as Rachael walked with surprising speed from the garage, leaving the security team behind. For a moment, she worried they were breaking protocol or something, but none of the crew seemed to mind, instead focusing on getting the vehicle parked and stowing the security devices.

"So...what were you doing?" Moira tried.

"Mission in Bangladesh. Some t-abyss got released into the mangrove forests, and we had to go take out the infected materials."

Moira held back a whistle. She could only imagine the effort it took to clear away that much infected material. She would have to ask Claire about it later. "Seems like it would take a lot of people. When I worked with TerraSave, we always had to bring in other organizations to bolster the manpower for projects like that."

"TerraSave...you were one of the organizations that came out after Umbrella."

"I only recently joined though, so I wouldn't exactly count myself as a full-fledged member or anything. If I ever go back to work with them. Who were you working for?"

Moira regretted her question as she saw Rachael tense slightly. "I worked for the FBC."

 _That_ name rang a bell. Moira had heard it from day one of her job training. The biohazard organization no one wanted to talk about. Being responsible for the decimation of a city would do that. "Oh Jesus, uh, sorry?"

"They got what was coming to them," Rachael commented with a light growl. "Here we are."

Rachael tapped a button on the wall, opening the door to one of the living rooms. Stepping inside, she patiently allowed Rachael to guide the way, watching as she sat on one of the strange couches she'd seen around the facility. At the time, she had just wondered if they were a strange design choice, but as she saw the various knobs and edges on Rachael's body attempt to pierce the material, she understood why. She couldn't help her gaze as she sat down herself, watching as Rachael seemed to almost reflexively curl up, looking a bit like a barnacle stuck to a ship.

Taking a deep breath, Moira composed herself, trying to figure out how best to ask what she wanted to know. She had given so much thought to this moment, but all of it had flown away the moment she had seen the mutated woman. Deciding the bite the bullet, she looked up, meeting the single eyes that peered out at her. "So...how did you end up here?"

"I worked for the FBC during the Zenobia Incident. I was sent as part of a two-man team to ascertain what had happened on the ship. It was suspicious at the time, but it was just marked down as a lack of personnel. In actuality, I was expendable. They just wanted to use my partner to draw my boss, Morgan Lansdale for his involvement in the Terragrigia Incident."

"Not long after arriving aboard the ship, we were separated, and I encountered one of the Ooze. I managed to flee for a time, but I was eventually cornered and...killed."

Moira could feel her blood run cold as Rachael continued, her words ringing deep within Moira's own memories. "All I could feel was the pain, and the fading. Even when Jill was fighting them, I could just barely hear it. By the time she reached me, I was gone."

"When I woke up, all I could feel was anger. They had all betrayed me, and hurt me. It hurt so much...I couldn't feel anything but that hatred and pain."

"How did you get here?" Moira asked, feeling like there was still a large portion of the story missing.

"I had some help...I...don't want to talk about that."

Moira nodded, understanding completely. "I know a little bit how you felt. When Claire and I were escaping the Overseer, I ended up telling her to leave me behind. Right after she jumped, the tower collapsed, and I was covered by rubble. It hurt, really badly. I could feel them crushing me, and choking my breath with dust. Through the small gaps, I could see the ocean, disappearing as the dust settled, packing into the crevices. I thought I was going to die. When I awoke, I had only survived because an old man from the island had found me."

"He took care of me for a while...but I betrayed him. I didn't mean to, but I just wanted to get home. I nearly died again that night, and almost got him killed too. In my selfishness, I almost killed the man who saved me."

Silence hung over the pair for a minute, and neither made eye contact, lost in their thoughts. Moira looked up slightly. "Does it still hurt?"

"Only on bad days. I think it is the memory more than anything actually going on," Rachael confirmed before meeting Moira's eyes. "You?"

"Sometimes. Mostly when things get too close to me. Being trapped under a falling building is a great way to develop claustrophobia," Moira pointed out sarcastically. As her laugh died off, she raised a hand, inspecting it. "The thing that scares me the most is knowing that it could come back. The Phobos reacted to fear, and I worry that it will come back and change me into one of them."

Rachael was silent for a moment. Slowly, she unfurled herself, leaning forward slightly. With a careful gentleness, she took Moira's hand in her own. To Moira's surprise, it was quite warm; something she had blamed on the garage's temperature. Whenever she had touched one of the Afflicted, they had always been slimy and cold, like they had been rotting away in a sewer (as many actually had). The closest they got to feeling warm was the Vulcan Blubber, and that was only because of its incendiary weapon.

When Moira touched Rachael's hand, it was like a human's. A bit more muscular, and a bit wetter, but human nonetheless. She smiled gently with a sigh of relief, gently letting go. Rachael, seeing she had got her point across, leaned back, though she did not curl up as usual.

"So...um...I did have something else to tell you, though I am not sure you'll like it," Moira admitted. Rachael's eye narrowed slightly, though it looked more tired than suspicious. "When I heard your last name I wasn't sure, but I looked into it a bit. Your sister was one of my co-workers. She uh...she was killed on the island. I'm sorry."

"I thought something must have happened to her…" Rachael admitted quietly. "I only got in contact with her a while ago, and when the messages stopped right after the attack on TerraSave HQ, I figured it out pretty quickly. It's good to hear it as a fact though. Did she..?"

"As best as I could tell, she died of wounds, not infection. She died human," Moira assured, though it did not feel like much of one. There was no good way out.

Rachael nodded to herself slightly. "We both wanted to help people, but she was always better about it. She joined TerraSave because it would allow her to more directly assist people, even if it wasn't the safest line of work. I chose the FBC because I was afraid, and I always thought they would send someone else. She died doing what she believed in."

Moira was silent, pondering her words. The only thing she was sure of was that she was happy Rachael had taken the news relatively well. "Do you have anyone else?"

"Not really. She was the last connection to my old life."

"What are you going to do now?"

"Keep doing what I have been doing," Rachael answered simply. Moira nodded, understanding the unspoken reasons that lay behind it. Standing, Moira could feel a sense of determination filling her.

"We should continue this some other time. You have to be tired. I've decided to stick around a while. See you around." Moira waved to Rachael as she left, and Rachael waved back, her exhaustion evident. Closing the door behind her, Moira felt like she had just closed the page on a chapter in her life.

Later, she would talk to Leon about some training. While she wasn't sure she wanted to be an agent still, she wasn't going to stand by any longer. If that is what it took to help people, she would do it without a second thought.


End file.
